Adorable Mess
by Snakequeen-in-Norway
Summary: Season 2. Kurt gets up and goes to school, but he really shouldn't be there at all, he looks like death warmed over. Really sweet, adorable, and slightly sharp-tongued death. What does this mean for Kurt? For Blaine? For Klaine? And for everyone else?
1. Chapter 1: Not Such A Teenage Dream

**Author's Note: When I change fandoms it doesn't necessarily (read: at all) change my writing style & the kinds of things I like to write about. I mean, hopefully I change my writing style enough to fit the fandom, but my drama, sap, hopeless romanticism, & horrible addiction to sickfics follow me wherever I go ;) Considering that of all the fics I've ever written only 1 has actually been intentionally thought up, think of these as a glimpse of what goes on inside my head (with a little of the chaos & crazy edited out for your sanity [mine is already a lost cause])**

**This fic is AU in the sense that Blaine & Kurt get together in a different way than they do in the actual show. (I know, shocking, I'm having them get together, I'm sure I just spoiled the entire fic for you *rolls eyes*). I adore the way they got together in the show, I wouldn't change it for anything, it was perfect. But that doesn't mean my head doesn't like to play around with other ideas, most of which involve various levels of craziness & drama, lol.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: You don't think I own Glee. I don't think I own Glee. We're cool.**

**Chapter One: Not Such a Teenage Dream**

_You think I'm pretty without any make-up_

_You think I'm funny when I tell the punch-line wrong_

_I know you get me, so I let my walls—_

Kurt slapped his hand down on his alarm clock, silencing the song. He did _not_ feel like getting up. Let alone making the nearly two hour drive to Dalton. He let his head drift back down onto the pillow.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

_The way you turn me on_

_I can't sleep_

_So let's run away and don't ever look back don't—_

Kurt groaned and sat up, fumbling with the off button as he slid out of bed and then made his way over to his vanity.

Ugh. He looked like a wreck. Finn had been playing video games in the next room late into the night and Kurt hadn't managed to drift off until past midnight.

Kurt sighed and got to work on his morning skin and hair regime.

*****AM*****

An hour later Kurt grabbed his car keys and coat and dragged himself wearily to his car. Through the window he could see Finn's room, still dark and quiet.

_Lucky bastard_, he thought, yawning. Then, _why am I so freakin' tired?_

*****AM*****

Kurt considered it a small miracle that he didn't fall asleep at the wheel and cause an accident on his way to Dalton.

When he got out of his car, shaking his head to clear it, he was greeted by an all together too chipper Blaine, his best friend (well, he tied with Mercedes), crush, and fellow Warbler.

"Good morning, Kurt," he said brightly, looping his arm through that of the fashionable countertenor.

"Good morning," mumbled Kurt.

Blaine's smile turned into a frown.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Kurt, managing a smile. "I just didn't get much sleep last night." He bumped Blaine's shoulder with his own. "How are you?"

"Really good, actually," said Blaine. "I'm really pumped to start practicing for Regionals."

"Me too," said Kurt enthusiastically.

The first bell rang.

"We'd better get to class," said Blaine, grabbing Kurt's hand and beginning to run. "Come on!"

*****AM*****

Kurt was gasping for breath by the time they reached the classroom. When he stopped running the room lurched sickeningly and he instinctively grabbed the nearest means of support, which happened to be Blaine's arm.

"Whoa, Kurt, are you okay?" asked Blaine in concern.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I just—lost my balance."

Blaine gave him a searching look and then shrugged. "Come on, you, we'll be late for class."

*****AM*****

All throughout class Blaine kept casting glances at Kurt. The brunette was staring listlessly off into space, not even paying attention to what the teacher was saying, something rather unusual for Kurt.

Blaine prodded his elbow.

"Kurt?"

"Huh?"

His friend blinked as though coming out of a daze.

"Everything alright?" whispered Blaine. "You look a little out of it. I mean, French is usually your favorite subject. Is there something bothering you?"

Kurt shook his head and massaged his aching eye-sockets with his fingertips.

"I'm just having trouble concentrating today."

"You sure?" said Blaine, leaning over onto Kurt's desk. "Because if something's going on at home, or with your friends, you can tell me, okay?"

Kurt smiled at him and placed his hand over Blaine's.

"I know. And if it was something like that I'd totally tell you. To be honest I don't know what's up with me today. I feel like a bulldozer went and rolled over me in my sleep."

Blaine frowned at Kurt, absently playing with the brunette's fingers, which were still laying over his. The slender boy closed his eyes; he looked really pale and flushed.

"Do you think you might have a fever?"

Kurt opened his eyes again.

"I don't know, maybe…"

Before Kurt knew what was happening Blaine had leaned over and pressed his cool hand against Kurt's forehead.

"Oh, Kurt, you're really warm…"

"Am I? I feel freezing."

"Yeah, you're definitely sick, Kurt," said Blaine in concern. "You don't look good at all."

"Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean."

Blaine glanced toward the front of the classroom. The teacher was writing something on the white board and not paying the least bit of attention to their corner of the room. Blaine scooted his chair over to Kurt's desk.

"If you think you can make it through the rest of the period I can take you to the nurse when it's over," he whispered.

Kurt nodded.

"Okay."

Blaine shifted even closer and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Put your head down on your desk, I'll cover for you."

"But—"

"Kurt, there's no way you're actually absorbing any of this right now. You're great at French; you'll catch up in no time once you're feeling better."

Kurt had to admit Blaine had a point, but…

"If Mrs. LeBray sees me sleeping…"

"I said I'd cover for you," said Blaine. He put on a falsely injured look that had Kurt's heart doing funny little wiggles in his chest. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," said Kurt. "I just—"

"Then put your head down on the desk," said Blaine. "I'll wake you when class is over."

Kurt complied, lowering his achy head to his folded arms, but he couldn't get comfortable. He shifted this way and that way, turned his head to the left and then to the right, folded and unfolded his arms. Nothing helped. After a minute or two he felt a hand on his back.

"Kurt? You okay?"

"Not really," he mumbled. "It's not comfortable."

"You really don't feel well, do you?" said Blaine sympathetically.

Kurt shook his head, and to his embarrassment a tear leaked out from under his closed eyelids.

"Hey, shhh," said Blaine. "Here, use my arm as a pillow." He gently nudged his forearm against Kurt's head.

Kurt lifted his head and laid it gratefully back down on Blaine's blazer-clad arm

"What about your own class work, though?" Kurt asked. "If you can't use your arm…"

"Don't worry about it," said Blaine. "Just rest."

Truthfully, Blaine paid almost as little attention to the rest of the French lesson as Kurt did. With the hand that wasn't currently trapped under Kurt's head he rubbed gentle circles on his friend's back; he could feel the heat of the slighter boy's fever through his uniform.

"Poor Kurt," Blaine whispered softly, moving his hand to the back of Kurt's head. He laced his fingers through the other boy's fine brown hair, smiling at the thought of what Kurt's reaction would be to the disruption of his perfectly hair-sprayed coif.

"Your hair is adorable no matter how it's styled," he whispered, confident that the feverish boy, whose shoulders were already rising and falling in the gentle rhythm of sleep, couldn't hear him.

*****AM*****

Class ended, and as the boys around them gathered up their things and filed out of the room, Blaine gently shook Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt? Hey Kurt, it's time to wake up, class is over."

Kurt moaned and blinked blearily up at Blaine.

"Why do I feel like a just got slushied and thrown in a dumpster, only ten times worse?"

Blaine chuckled sympathetically.

"You're sick. I'm going to take you to the nurse. Up you get."

Blaine snaked his arm around Kurt's waist and hoisted him out of his chair. He tried very hard to ignore the inexplicable beat that his heart skipped when Kurt's warm body pressed up against his. He swallowed.

_Pull yourself together, Blaine._

"I can walk, Blaine," protested Kurt. "I'm not an invalid."

Blaine smiled.

"Stubborn even in illness," he teased. "Come on my non-invalid, you're going to the nurse."

Kurt looked at the floor, not wanting Blaine to see his reaction to being called 'his' anything.

The two boys crossed the campus, Blaine rubbing warmth into Kurt's arms when he shivered at the chill air of the courtyard.

"It's strange walking through the halls when everyone is in class," said Kurt.

"Yeah," said Blaine. "It's _quiet_."

Kurt laughed. The laugh quickly turned into a cough.

"Easy there," said Blaine, rubbing Kurt's back. "None of that now."

"Blaine," said Kurt. "Can we stop for a minute? I'm feeling kind of lightheaded."

"Of course," said Blaine, stopping immediately. He placed his hands on Kurt's shoulders and peered concernedly into his face.

"Breathe," he commanded.

Kurt closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath

"I—I think I'm okay now."

"You sure?"

Kurt nodded.

Blaine's arm found its way back around Kurt's waist and they kept walking, both hoping that the other couldn't feel how fast their heart was beating at the moment.

*****AM*****

Kurt and Blaine arrived at the nurse's office and Blaine rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.

"Miss Clark?"

A pretty young woman with red hair and a skirt just long enough to be decent came into view.

"_That's_ the school nurse?" whispered Kurt.

Blaine chuckled.

"Yep. Half the guys here have crushes on her."

Kurt just shook his head mutely.

"Mr. Anderson." The nurse's mouth quirked. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Not another show-choir induced injury I hope?"

Blaine shook his head. "Not this time, Miss Clark. This is my friend Kurt Hummel, he's not feeling too well."

Miss Clark cast an appraising gaze over Kurt.

"I should say not. Hon, you look like death warmed over. Come sit down and we'll take your temperature."

She ushered Kurt into a cushy blue chair and Blaine positioned himself behind him, resting his hands lightly on Kurt's shoulders. Then she went over to her desk and began looking through a drawer.

Kurt whispered to Blaine, "Do I really look like death warmed over?"

"Yeah, you kinda do," said Blaine.

Kurt groaned.

"Hey, no one's gonna see you. Besides, you have an excuse, you're sick."

"_You're_ seeing me."

Blaine waved the words away with his hand.

"Come on Kurt, it's _me_. What do I care what you look like? I'm with you for better and for worse. In sickness and in health."

"You make it sound as though we're married."

Miss Clark came back with a digital thermometer.

"I trust that I don't have to instruct you in its proper use?"

Kurt giggled hoarsely and shook his head, deciding he rather liked this nurse.

He pressed the button and stuck the thermometer into his mouth, promptly crossing his eyes to try and read the climbing digits on the little screen.

"Don't do that," admonished Blaine. "You'll give yourself a headache."

"Doo la'e," said Kurt around the thermometer.

"Don't talk with the thermometer in your mouth," said Miss Clark.

"Yeah, don't talk with the thermometer in your mouth, Kurt," said Blaine, smirking. He ran his hand over Kurt's hair.

"Mmph!" protested Kurt.

"Oh, relax, would you?" said Blaine. "Besides, you already messed it up earlier sleeping on it during French." He tactfully neglected to mention his own role in that messing-up process.

The thermometer beeped and Miss Clark whisked it out of Kurt's mouth before he had a chance to see the reading.

The nurse looked at the thermometer and then raised her ginger eyebrows.

"What in the world are you doing at school with a 102.3 degree fever, Mr. Hummel?"

"Oh God. Kurt…" said Blaine. He leaned over the back of the chair to give Kurt a hug around the shoulders.

Kurt patted Blaine's arm to assure him he was okay and shrugged.

"I—I didn't feel so bad this morning. Or, I did, but I just thought I was really tired…"

Blaine tightened his arms around Kurt's shoulders, ignoring the ridiculous tingly sensation that shot through him at the gesture.

"You're supposed to tell me when you don't feel well," he scolded gently.

"Where is that written?"

"Unspoken rules of friendship," replied Blaine. "What would your friends at McKinley have done if you came to school sick?"

"Marched me right to the nurse's office," he admitted.

Blaine ruffled his hair, earning another inarticulate protest from the ailing teen.

"Well," said Miss Clark in a tone that was gentle and friendly but brooked no argument, "you are certainly not going back to classes today. Are you a boarder, hon?"

Kurt shook his head.

"Where do you live?"

"Lima."

"Lima?" said Miss Clark in surprise. "Well that makes things a bit more complicated, doesn't it? We could have your parents come pick you up and take you home, or you can stay here until you're feeling better. The beds don't have down comforters, but they're not made of plastic either.

"Can I stay here?" asked Kurt, who at this point didn't really care what the bed looked like as long as he could sleep in it. "I don't want to make my dad or Carole drive all the way out here to get me and then have to bring me back again, since my car would still be here." _And, as horribly sappy as it sounds, I wouldn't mind having Blaine take care of me while I'm sick either…_ he added silently

"Here it is, then," said Miss Clark. "Might I suggest changing into something a bit more comfortable?"

She opened another drawer and pulled out a pair of navy blue pajamas, which she tossed to Kurt.

Kurt fumbled them, but Blaine caught them and pressed the fabric into Kurt's arms.

"Thanks," Kurt said to both of them.

Miss Clark opened a door that led off of her office. Inside was a plain but comfortable looking bed, a night table, a desk lamp, and not much else. In usual circumstances it would have been Kurt's worst nightmare, now it looked like a dream come true.

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was still standing behind him.

"Umm…"

He looked pointedly down at the pajamas in his arms.

"Oh, right," said Blaine. "I'll, um, let you change and get some rest. Do you want me to stay with you after?"

"_Class_, Mr. Anderson," came Miss Clark's voice from the main room.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"No, it's fine, you should go to class," said Kurt, touched by Blaine's concern for him. "You've already missed one class because of me, two if you count French. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be very interesting, I'll only be sleeping."

"Alright," said Blaine. "You have my number. Text me if something comes up, okay?"

Kurt nodded.

Spontaneously, Blaine opened his arms and enfolded Kurt in them.

He could have sworn the younger boy was charged with electricity. Kurt hadn't used to elicit these kinds of confounding reactions from his body; it was only recently that he had started reacting this way to the other boy, and he didn't know what to make of it.

"Feel better," said Blaine, releasing Kurt with a last pat on the shoulder.

Kurt's reply came out sounding slightly breathless.

"I'll try."

**AN: SO I kept looking for a place to end this chapter once I reached 1000 words, but it just kept going & going & no place **_**felt**_** like the end of the chapter until I got here, so here it ends. The more happens in each chapter, the fewer chapters there will be, but they end when it feels right to me, as long as they are over 1000 words and under like 3500 or so.**

**Let's face it; every author wants to get reviews on their stories. They're not **_**why**_** we write (I write 'cause my brain won't shut up), but they sure are a nice incentive.**

**P.S. Did you like Kurt's alarm clock? ;)**

**-SQ**


	2. Chapter 2: Not Like That, Really

**Author's Note: More adorableness? I hope so :) The other Warblers are in this chapter too. I hope you enjoy.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: If this were real Glee you'd be watching it, not reading it. Also, if I owned Glee I would by Ryan Murphy, who I'm not.**

**Chapter Two: Not Like That, Really**

Kurt woke to a cool hand on his forehead.

"Hey, Kurt, how're you feeling?"

Kurt opened his eyes and blinked, bringing Blaine's face into focus.

"Hi," said Kurt weakly.

"Hi," said Blaine, smiling. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm alright."

Kurt smiled slightly to reassure his friend, but the effect was somewhat ruined when he started to cough.

"Easy," said Blaine, supporting Kurt's back with his hand.

Kurt leaned his head against Blaine's arm.

"Okay, so maybe I'm not quite alright."

"Or at all alright?" said Blaine archly.

"Or at all alright," agreed Kurt with a sigh.

Blaine wrapped his other arm around Kurt.

"What time is it?" Kurt asked. There was a clock on the bedside table, but he didn't have enough energy to sit up and look at it, and Blaine's arms felt so good around him…

"Five past noon," answered Blaine.

"I slept all morning?"

"So it would seem," said Blaine. "And by the looks of it you could use some more. I didn't mean to wake you up, you know."

"It's okay," said Kurt. "I'm glad you did. I would have hated to miss you. I'd rather be awake with you than asleep all by myself, even if I do feel wretched."

Realizing what he had just said, Kurt flushed and looked down.

Blaine chuckled and ruffled Kurt's hair.

"Blaine!" Kurt protested. "My hair!"

"Don't worry, it's still a perfect…disaster," said Blaine, smirking.

"Oh!" exclaimed Kurt, his hands flying to his hair. "Oh, it's awful…" his eyes began to fill with tears.

"Kurt!" said Blaine in alarm. He took his shoulders. "Kurt, I didn't mean it. I was teasing. Kurt, please don't cry."

Kurt blinked and sniffled. Blaine was looking distressed. He suddenly felt extremely silly.

"Sorry…I'm kind of emotional right now…"

Blaine opened his arms, inviting Kurt into them. The younger boy accepted gratefully, the warmth of Blaine's body easing slightly the shivery achy feeling in his muscles.

"You're sick. I shouldn't be teasing. I'm sorry."

Kurt just burrowed his face into Blaine's collar, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that still hovered there.

"Kurt, I really am sorry."

"I know. Don't be. I'm being silly. I just…I kind of lose it when I'm sick. Once I ripped my entire room apart looking for my favorite sweater, just to make sure I still had it."

Blaine chuckled, moving his arms around the other boy in what could almost be considered a cuddle.

Kurt felt his heartbeat speed up in his chest.

Blaine felt it too and pulled back to look at Kurt's face.

"Relax, I've got you."

Kurt bit his lip.

"I hate being sick."

"Who doesn't?"

As Kurt lowered his head back to Blaine's shoulder Miss Clark walked into the room.

She surveyed the scene with one hand on her hip.

"I thought I heard your voice in here, Blaine Anderson," she said, stern tone belied by the smile tugging on her lips. "Who gave you permission to be in here?"

Blaine put on his most charming, angelic smile.

"Oh, you," said the nurse, half fondly, half exasperatedly. "I came in here to bring Mr. Hummel some lunch and take his temperature."

"Thank you, Miss Clark," said Kurt gratefully, accepting a bowl of soup and a piece of toast from her.

Blaine checked his watch.

"I've got to go," he said regretfully. "Class starts in five minutes."

He rose from the side of the bed and took Kurt's hands, squeezing them.

"I'll be back later."

"'Kay," said Kurt. The heat rising through his body, which had nothing to do with the fever he was running, was making it exceedingly difficult to think.

Blaine gave Kurt's hand one last squeeze.

"Au revoir, mon ami."

"Au revoir, mon amor," whispered Kurt.

*****AM*****

"Okay," said Wes, rapping his gavel smartly against the desk in front of him. "I hereby call this meeting of the Warblers to order. Is everyone here?"

"Where's Kurt?" asked David, looking around the room for the absent countertenor. Everyone's eyes scanned the room as well and then turned automatically to Blaine.

"He's sick," said Blaine. "I took him to the nurse after first period."

The rest of the Warblers made sympathetic noises.

"I hope he's okay," said Nick.

"He's running a pretty high fever," said Blaine. "But he should be fine."

"I know we're all sorry that Kurt isn't feeling well," said Wes, tapping his gavel sharply for attention. "And we will miss him in rehearsal today, but it is time to get that rehearsal underway. Now, the council has come up with a few ideas to test out for sectionals, so come pick up the sheet music and we'll run through them a few times to get a feel for them."

The Warbler boys all filed to the front of the room and grabbed a stack of sheet music. Richard, the best piano player in the group, sat down at the baby grand to give notes and run parts. Wes, David, and Thad came to take their places with the rest of the Warblers. Richard rolled the pitches and Thad counted them in for the first song.

*****AM*****

Wes and David caught up with Blaine after rehearsal.

"Hey, Blaine, wait up," said Wes. He and David jogged up to flank to shorter boy.

"I'm sorry for cutting the conversation short earlier," Wes continued.

"It's not that we're not concerned about Kurt," said David. "Because we really are."

"But we had to get rehearsal rolling."

"It's cool," said Blaine. "I understand."

"Are you going to see him now?" asked David.

Blaine nodded.

"Yes."

"Mind if we join you?"

"Or would you rather be alone with your sweetheart?"

"He is not my sweetheart," said Blaine irritably. "How many times do I have to tell you guys that? And yes, you can come along. But be _gentle_. Please."

"We will."

"We're not monsters."

"We know he's sick, man, have a little faith."

*****AM*****

"Miss Clark?" Blaine knocked on the doorframe.

The pretty young nurse appeared through the door to her private office.

"Mr. Anderson, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Montgomery. How are you boys?"

"Very well, Miss Clark," replied Wes and David, practically oozing charm.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"How's Kurt?"

"Still feeling like crap, but alive," was Miss Clark's wry opinion. "I assume you'd like to see him."

"If it's not too much trouble, Miss Clark," said Wes sweetly.

The nurse raised an eyebrow.

"If you want to see your friend you'll behave."

"Sorry, Miss Clark," said Wes and David contritely.

The nurse sighed and gestured toward the door to Kurt's room.

Blaine knocked twice and then poked his head around the door.

"Kurt? Are you awake?"

"Yes," came a hoarse whisper.

Kurt was sitting up in the bed, arms wrapped around his knees. His eyes were closed and his head rested against the headboard. The three boys entered the room and sat down on the edges of the bed.

"Hey, Kurt," said David. "Blaine told us you were sick."

Kurt nodded without opening his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" asked Wes.

"Miserable," croaked Kurt.

The other three winced.

Kurt finally opened his eyes. They were bloodshot.

"I know, I sound awful. On top of everything else I've lost my voice."

He was not about to cry, he was _not_. Not in front of Wes and David.

His friends all patted him on the shoulders, Blaine giving him an extra squeeze.

"Man, that sucks," said David.

"Don't worry, though," said Wes. "It'll come back."

"It'd better," rasped Kurt. "I don't know what I'd do if it didn't." Then, "Oh Gaga, I sound like Rachel."

Wes and David looked confused. Blaine laughed and wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"How's your fever?"

"High," sighed Kurt, sagging against the older boy. "102.5 last time we checked."

"Oh, Kurt, you poor thing," said Blaine, tightening his arms around the feverish boy. "You must feel awful."

"Pretty much."

Blaine pressed his lips to the top of Kurt's head, glaring daggers at Wes and David, who were wearing identical knowing smirks.

Kurt's breath left him in a rush. Did Blaine just do what he thought he did? Maybe he was going delirious…

"I wish there was something I could do," Blaine murmured. "I hate seeing you like this."

"I hate you seeing me like this," said Kurt.

"Nonsense," said David. "We're your friends."

"Yeah, your _friends_," said Wes, winking at Blaine over Kurt's head.

_Shut up_, Blaine mouthed at him.

"We've got to go," said Wes, standing up.

"So we'll just leave you two alone," said David, neatly side-stepping the blow Blaine aimed at his side.

"See you later, Kurt."

"Feel better, man."

"We need our countertenor back."

Blaine could feel Kurt nodding off against his shoulder. He shook him gently.

"Kurt, don't you think you ought to call your parents and tell them you'll be staying overnight?"

"Oh, yeah, right!" said Kurt, bolting up. "Dad's going to be worried sick!"

"Whoa!" said Blaine, catching the other boy with his arm. "Calm down. Do you have your phone on you?"

"Of course."

Kurt pulled it out and dialed his home number. Finn picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Finn, it's Kurt."

"Whoa, dude, what's up with your voice?"

"I'm sick," said Kurt glumly.

"Bro, really? Are you okay?"

"Kind of," said Kurt. "I've got a pretty high fever and I feel terrible, but I'm in the nurse's office and Blaine is here. I won't be coming home tonight though."

"Do you want me to come and pick you up?" asked Finn, worry evident in his voice.

"No, I'm just going to stay here. I'll be fine, promise," he added when Finn started to protest.

"Okay, said Finn reluctantly. "Put Blaine on the phone for a minute."

Kurt shrugged and held the phone out to the darker-haired boy.

"Finn wants to talk to you."

Blaine took the phone.

"Hello?"

"How is he? Is he okay? He sounds awful."

Blaine smiled tightly.

"He's pretty sick; fever, cough, chills, the works; he's absolutely exhausted, but he's hanging in there."

"He's gonna be okay though?"

"Yes," said Blaine. "I promise. Kurt's tough, and Dalton's nurse is great. He's going to be fine. I wouldn't let it be otherwise."

"You'll take care of him?"

"Of course." Blaine smiled. "You really care about him."

"He's my brother."

"And one of my best friends," said Blaine. "Tell your parents he's in good hands."

"They're going to flip," said Finn. "Especially Burt."

"Kurt said as much."

"Can you put him back on?"

"Sure, just a second."

He handed the phone back to Kurt.

"I'll tell my mom and your dad for you," said Finn.

"Thanks, Finn."

"Don't mention it. Feel better, bro."

"Hopefully," said Kurt.

Kurt ended the call and laid the phone on the bedside table, his eyes were already starting to close.

Blaine stayed with Kurt until sleep overtook the other boy, then he laid him gently down on the bed, tucked him in, brushed his lips lightly, _platonically_ he told himself firmly, over his burning forehead, and quietly left the room.

"He's asleep," Blaine informed Miss Clark wearily.

She nodded.

"You should be too."

"You'll take care of him?"

"It is my job."

Blaine chuckled.

"Touché."

"Where did you find him, anyway?" asked the nurse, rearranging the pillows on the couch. "He doesn't' seem like run-of-the-mill Dalton stock."

"He's not," said Blaine. "He's not run-of-the-mill anything. He transferred here from his old school. He was having problems with bullies."

"He seems like a nice catch," said Miss Clark mildly.

"It's not like that," said Blaine. "We're just good friends. Really."

"Ah," said Miss Clark, and left it at that.

**AN: I'd love for you to review :)**

**-SQ**


	3. Chapter 3: Not This Time

**Author's Note: I was going to type this chapter & realized that none of the chapters I had written yet had any songs in them. & I was like, 'this is a **_**Glee**_** fic, it should at least have **_**some**_** songs!' SO I put a song in here. There'll be a song in the next chapter too, & in future chapters, just 'cause it is, you know, a **_**Glee**_** fic. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Wow, I just realized that all 3 chapter titles so far begin with 'Not'. What a negative sounding fic. The rest of them don't though.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: As much as I adore Kurt & Blaine, what would I honestly do with them if I owned them? (Don't answer that, it has the potential to be really creepy & I don't even want to go there)**

**Chapter Three: Not This Time**

Kurt's phone rang.

He fumbled around on the dressing table, wrapped his fingers around the device, dragged his thumb across the screen to accept the call, and held it to his ear.

"H'lo?"

"Kurt, is that you?"

"Dad?"

"What's this Finn tells me about you being sick?"

"Dad, I was sleeping."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at Dalton." _Where do you think I am?_

"Where at Dalton?"

"In the nurse's office."

"The nurse's office? So you are sick?"

Kurt nodded, then realized that his dad couldn't' see him. Plus it hurt his head.

"Yes. I am. But I'll be fine, don't worry, okay?"

"Like hell I won't worry," said Burt. "I'm your dad; it's my job to worry. Why didn't you call earlier? I could have come and got you."

"That's why, Dad," said Kurt. "I didn't want you to have to do that. I'll be fine here. I just need to rest."

"Who's there with you? You're not alone are you?"

"No, the nurse is here. Well, not here in the room, but right next door. And Blaine keeps stopping by to check on me."

"Blaine?"

"You know him, Dad. He's my best friend at Dalton. Shorter than me, black curly hair." _Incredibly sexy…_

"The one that's gay?"

"Yes, Dad." _Your sensitivity astounds me._

"The one I found sleeping in your bed?"

Kurt groaned.

"Yes, Dad, that was Blaine."

A pause.

"Well, you take care of yourself, okay, son?"

"I will, Dad," said Kurt, rolling his eyes.

"Call me if you need anything, alright?"

"Yes, Dad, I will."

"Now go back to sleep."

"Okay, Dad." _If I ever get off the phone with you._

"I love you, Kurt."

"Love you too, Dad."

Kurt ended the call and sank his head back onto the pillow. He wished his dad was actually there. Or Carole. Or Blaine. Even Finn. Somebody. Anybody… Feeling sick, achy, and incredibly lonely, Kurt rolled his face into the pillow, letting the tears come until he fell asleep.

*****AM*****

Blaine set his alarm early the next morning so that he would have time to check in on Kurt before his first class. He knew it wasn't necessary; Kurt was in perfectly capable hands with Miss Clark, and there certainly wasn't anything Blaine would be able to do that the nurse wouldn't. Really it was more for his own peace of mind than anything. He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on his classes if he was constantly wondering how Kurt was doing. It would be bad enough if he did visit him; it would be impossible if he didn't.

Kurt was sitting up in bed when Blaine arrived.

"Hi," said Kurt, sounding surprised.

"Hey," said Blaine. "I didn't expect you to be awake."

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."

Blaine sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" asked Kurt.

"I wanted to check in on you before I had to go to class."

Kurt rested his head on the older boy's shoulder.

"You're too nice to me."

Blaine ruffled Kurt's hair affectionately.

"How are you feeling?"

"_Blaine,"_ Kurt protested half-heartedly. "A little better than yesterday," he added by way of answer.

Blaine touched the tear tracks dried on Kurt's cheeks.

"You've been crying."

Kurt shivered.

"It was nothing. You know how I cry at everything. My dad called last night and I guess it just kind of made me lonely."

"Oh, Kurt, you should have called me. I would have come over."

"Because me bawling my eyes out on your shoulder is oh-so-attractive."

"_Kurt."_

"I know, I know."

Blaine lifted his hand to Kurt forehead.

"May I?"

"Be my guest," said Kurt, and then swallowed hard as his crush's hand enveloped his forehead.

"You do feel a little cooler than yesterday," said Blaine.

"I don't feel as chilled," said Kurt. "But I'm really achy. It pretty much hurts to move."

Blaine shifted slightly and laid his hands on Kurt's shoulders.

"Tell me if this hurts, okay?"

"If what hurts? What are you doing?"

"Just relax."

Blaine began to move his hands ever-so-slowly-and-gently across Kurt's back and shoulders.

"Oooh…" moaned Kurt, wincing.

Blaine's hands stopped immediately.

"Kurt? I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, but don't stop," said Kurt. "It feels good."

Blaine resumed the careful massage, Kurt groaning and arching into the other boy's skillful fingers.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," said Blaine. "I don't want to hurt you."

For his part, Kurt couldn't think of anything more heavenly. If he'd known that getting sick was all he had to do to get Blaine's hands on him like this he would have done it a lot sooner.

As his fingers worked over Kurt's aching muscles, Blaine sang softly, as if to himself.

"_Close your eyes, have no fear_

_The monster's gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy—"_

Blaine seemed to suddenly realize he was singing.

"Oh, sorry, is that bothering you? My roommate's a huge John Lennon fan. He was playing it earlier in our room and now it's stuck in my head…"

"No," said Kurt. "I like it. Please, keep going."

Blaine obliged.

"_Before you go to sleep say a little prayer_

_Every day in every way it's getting better and better_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy_

_Out on the ocean, sailing away_

_I can hardly wait to see you come of age_

_But I guess we'll both just have to be patient_

'_Cause it's a long way to go, a hard row to hoe_

_Yes it's a long way to go but in the meantime_

_Before you cross the street take my hand_

_Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy_

_Before you go to sleep say a little prayer_

_Every day in every way it's getting better and better_

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy_

_Darling, darling, darling, darling…_

_Kurt"_

Kurt felt a very pleasant flutter in his stomach when Blaine changed the last word of the song to his name at the last second.

Blaine faded out the last note and let his hands go still.

"Did that help at all?"

"Yes," said Kurt breathlessly. "That was amazing. Where did you learn how to _do_ that?"

"My mom's a massage therapist," said Blaine. "She taught me a few things."

"Well she's obviously a good teacher," said Kurt.

"I'll pass that on."

Blaine uncurled himself from the bed and stood. Kurt bit back a cry at the separation, feeling suddenly chilled and empty.

"I've got to go to class now," said Blaine. "I'll come by at lunch though."

"You don't have to," Kurt said, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice that said otherwise.

Blaine smiled. "But I want to. And stop talking," he added. "We want your voice to come back as soon as possible; you were sorely missed at Warblers practice yesterday."

Blaine leaned over, pulled the blanked up around Kurt's shoulders, placed a quick kiss on Kurt's forehead, flashed him his usual grin, and then left the room, oblivious to Kurt's paralyzing shock.

_That boy is going to drive me crazy,_ he thought. _If he doesn't kill me first._

*****AM*****

"For the millionth time, no, Wes, I am not interested in Kurt that way. That's not the kind of relationship we have."

"But it _could_ be," said David.

"No, it couldn't," said Blaine flatly. "You are both way off the mark and I'd appreciate it if you'd shut up about it."

"Oh do us all a favor and just admit it to yourself already!" said Wes. "And to him too, for that matter!"

"There's nothing to admit," snapped Blaine peevishly.

He was not in the mood to discuss Wes and David's crazy theory that he and Kurt had the secret hots for each other. He had gotten very little sleep the night before, Mrs. LeBray had just assigned him an absolutely criminal amount of homework, and he was still feeling disconcerted about what he had done before he had left the nurse's office that morning. Blaine still didn't know what had possessed him to do that, to kiss Kurt on the forehead. It had seemed perfectly natural at the time, but looking back he could see so many ways it could be misconstrued. He had unintentionally misled his friend as to his intentions towards him once before; he couldn't afford to do it again.

"Earth to Blaine." David waved his hand in front of Blaine's face.

"Look," said Blaine. "Even if I _did_ have those kinds of feelings for Kurt, which I _don't_, now would be a completely inappropriate time to act on them. He's sick. He needs a supportive friend, not some creep coming on to him.

"What better time to show him how much you care about him?" said Wes. "Well, Valentine's Day would have been a better time, but you kind of botched that one."

"And you're not a creep," added David.

"Guys, I am not going to take advantage of him while he's sick!" said Blaine. "Now I have to go. If I miss chemistry two days in a row Mr. Leebald will kill me."

Blaine walked away towards his second period class.

The two seniors watching him go and then turned to each other.

"Funny," said David with a creeping smile, "he didn't deny having feelings for Kurt that time."

**AN: Oh Blaine, you poor confused boy, lol. **

**And I hope Burt didn't come across as insensitive, because of course he's anything but, he's just, well, Burt, & the things he says are not always, um, classy, lol.**

**And I'm basing a good bit of how Kurt feels when he's sick off of how I feel when I'm sick. I get all emotional (okay, even more emotional than usual, which is saying something) & cry for no reason & really hate being all alone & lonely. I would literally watch the clock & call my friends as soon as I knew they would be home from school.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter. Writing these two is really fun.**

**Random **_**really**_** dorky fact: For the past 4 years, ever since I discovered & became obsessed w/ the musical **_**Wicked**_**, I have made Elphaba, Galinda, & Fiyero easter eggs when we dye eggs for Easter. This year I didn't, I made Kurt & Blaine eggs instead. I know, I am such an unbelievable dork.**

**Anywhoooo…reviews are calorie free, fat free, & just plain free, the perfect kind of treats!**

**& I'm going to go now…bye :)**

**-SQ**


	4. Chapter 4: Visitors

**Author's Note: I hope you like this fic even half as much as I love writing it. Because I feel really stupid going all squee over my own fic, lol. The 2****nd**** half of the fic is mostly a texting conversation, just to let you know, & the 1****st**** half has a song in it. Well, really a mash-up. You'll see ;)**

**Also, Harry Potter references are not because of Darren, as awesome as AVPM is, they're because of me. I'm not assuming Blaine loves HP 'cause Darren does, I'm putting in HP references because **_**I**_** love HP.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, there wouldn't really be much of a point in my writing fanfiction, now would there?**

**Chapter Four: Visitors**

Miss Clark was just taking the thermometer out of Kurt's mouth when Blaine stuck his head around the doorframe.

"What is it?" he asked.

"101. 8," said Miss Clark.

Blaine gave Kurt a sympathetic look.

"This is really getting old," the younger boy rasped.

"Shhh," said Blaine. "Don't talk. Just shake or nod your head. Are you feeling up to visitors?"

"By visitors do you mean just you, or the entire Warbler population?"

"Closer to the latter," Blaine admitted. "And I told you not to talk."

Kurt's laugh turned into a cough. Blaine was beside his bed in a heartbeat.

"I'll tell them all to go away."

"No, let them in," whispered Kurt.

Blaine smoothed Kurt's hair back from his forehead.

"But you don't feel well. I don't want to—"

"Blaine, of course I don't feel well. I'm sick. I have 101.8 degree fever, my extremities are freezing, and my throat hurts like a bitch. I feel like crap. But the Warblers are bound to be more interesting than sitting in here all day staring at the wall."

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt.

"Oh, Kurt… You're sure up to it? Because they'll understand if you're not."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but Blaine laid a finger across the other boy's lips, so he just nodded instead.

Blaine fluffed Kurt's pillows and laid a hand over his friend's.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

Kurt blushed and shook his head.

"Yes, yes, yes," said Blaine teasingly. He glanced at the door. Then back at Kurt. "You're sure—?"

"_Yes_, Blaine."

"Alright, alright!" He turned back toward the door. "You can come in, guys!"

Ten of the fifteen remaining Warblers burst through the door, bearing messenger bags and lunch trays, and scatting to a tune that Kurt knew was familiar, but he couldn't quite place.

Then Blaine stood up and began to sing.

"_The sun'll come out tomorrow,_

"No…you can't be serious…"

_bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun"_

"_Please_ tell me you're not serious…"

Wes stepped up beside Blaine and took the next line

"_Just thinkin' about tomorrow _

_clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow till there's none."_

Kurt slapped a hand over his face. "Oh my god, you _are_ serious!"

The Warblers just grinned as David took the next solo line

"_When I'm stuck with a day that's gray and lonely_

_I just stick out my chin and grin and say…_

_Oh…"_

Here the boys came together to form an arc around the room, Blaine once more stepping to the foreground. They held their hands out to their sides, spun around once, and then began doing what looked suspiciously like a Charleston.

"_I'm walkin' on sunshine, whoa-oh_

_I'm walkin' on sunshine, whoa-oh_

_I'm walkin' on sunshine, whoa-oh_

_And don't it feel good?"_

The Warblers were now dancing all around the room, grinning like fools. Kurt couldn't decide whether to clap insanely or hid under his covers.

"_Tomorrow_

_(I'm walkin' on sunshine)_

_Tomorrow_

_(I'm walkin' on sunshine)_

_I love ya,_

_(I'm walkin' on sunshine)_

_Tomorrow_

_(All right, now)_

_You're always a day away!_

_And don't it feel good!"_

Kurt laughed and clapped until his hands hurt, shaking his head.

"You guys are insane, absolutely and completely insane."

"We just thought you might want some company," said Jeff, smiling.

"It cheered you up, didn't it?" said Wes.

"Which was the entire point," said David. "So I guess it worked."

"The others would be here," added Thad, "but they've got club meetings or study groups."

"Or lunch detention," said Ethan with a smirk.

They all settled themselves around the room with their lunches, Blaine reclaiming his spot beside Kurt on the bed. Wes and David took up the remaining space on the bed while the rest of the boys dragged in chairs to sit on or simply stood. Casual chatter and laughter began to fill the space, and Kurt was content to let it wash over him, tucked cozily into the crook of Blaine's arm.

Then the door to the nurse's office main opened and a hush spread over the group like a ripple over a pond.

"What in the _world_ are you all doing here?"

"Um…eating lunch?" said Thad.

Miss Clark raised an eyebrow, very, very slowly.

"This is a sickroom, not a playground," she scolded. "Blaine, I cannot believe you allowed this to happen."

"I just thought Kurt might like some—"

"What Kurt _needs_ is rest. And what this school needs is for its entire show choir not to come down with the flu." She looked at them all severely. "Out!"

The Warblers meekly gathered up their things and trooped out of the room.

"As they passed Miss Clark, Wes whispered to David, "Who is she, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Do I _look_ like Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Montgomery?" asked Miss Clark.

Wes looked at her and swallowed, shaking his head. He had to admit that she didn't.

After she had shut the door behind the last errant Warbler Miss Clark turned back to Kurt.

"I'm sorry about that, hon. I know they mean well, but sometimes a heavy hand is the only way to—"

"Shhh," said Blaine. He pointed at Kurt.

Miss Clark looked.

The brunette was curled up on his side, head resting on Blaine's thigh, face buried in the front of the older boy's blazer. He was snoring gently.

"Really?" said Miss Clark incredulously. "With all that ruckus? I've been trying to get him to sleep all morning."

Blaine smiled a smile that was half tender, half smirk, and gently eased his friend's head off his lap.

"I do have good ideas occasionally."

Miss Clark shook her head.

"You boys…"

*****AM*****

When Kurt next came to consciousness night had fallen outside. His room appeared to be empty of any additional occupants, but a piece of paper lay folded on his bedside table

_Kurt,_

_I came by after Warbers practice but you were still sleeping, and if I don't finish that paper for English tomorrow Mr. Cooper is going to skin me alive. Text me when you wake up, okay?_

_XOXO_

_-Blaine_

Kurt's heart flipped over at the second to last line. It was innocent enough, he was sure, but it invoked a myriad of emotions inside his chest. Feeling like a complete and utter fool, he hugged the note to himself before pulling out his phone and typing out a text to Blaine.

_Hey, I'm awake. I got your note._

The reply came back less than a minute later.

_**Hey! How are you feeling? Did you sleep well? You completely conked out at lunch.**_

_Yeah, I did actually. And sorry about that._

_**No worries! It was cute. I hated to move you.**_

Kurt was glad Blaine couldn't see his blush.

_Move me?_

_**Yeah, you fell asleep using my lap as a pillow :)**_

Now Kurt was _really_ glad that Blaine couldn't see him.

_Oh God, I'm sorry…_

_**No, really, it's fine. First my arm, then my leg, falling asleep on my body parts is becoming a habit for you ;)**_

Before a mortified Kurt could think of an appropriate response to this another text came from Blaine.

_**Relax! I can just see you hyperventilating right now. Take a deep breath and at least pretend to laugh at my abysmal attempt at a joke *puppy dog eyes***_

Kurt giggled and texted back.

_You know me too well._

_**Naturally.**_

_**By falling asleep you missed Miss Clark going all Madame Pomfrey on us.**_

_All 'Madam Pomfrey'?_

_**You know, from Harry Potter: 'Out, out! This boy needs rest!' lol**_

Kurt laughed.

_Ah, too bad I missed it. Would have been entertaining. I take it you didn't ask her permission to bring them in here? *raised eyebrow*_

_**Well…not exactly…**_

_*eye roll* Typical Blaine Anderson. Such a delinquent._

_**Aww, you know you love me.**_

Kurt's heart did another flip in his chest, but he forced himself to reply casually

_I should be made a martyr for being your friend._

_**:P**_

_**Do you want me to come over there?**_

_Don't you have a paper to write?_

_**Umm…**_

_Do your work, Blaine._

_**But I don't want to *pouty face***_

_And I don't want to be sick, but here I am._

_**Touché. But that's why you should let me come over. I'll make you feel better. I could sing for you**__**again.**_

_Homework, Blaine. Remember Mr. Cooper not killing you?_

_***sigh* Yes, mother.**_

_*eye roll* Besides, if you came over here then I'd talk to you, and you keep telling me not to talk._

_**Ugh, I suppose you're right. As usual.**_

_*smirk* Hey, my phone's about to die so I'm going to put it on the charger while I eat something, 'cause I'm starving. And then I think I'll read for a while. See you tomorrow. Work on your paper._

_**Hahaha. Go eat some dinner. **_

_I will. Finish your work._

_**Yeah, yeah, yeah. 'Night Kurt. Feel better. Sweet dreams.**_

_Thanks, I'll try. 'Night Blaine._

Kurt's fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before adding '_3_' and pressing 'send'.

Back in his dorm room Blaine looked at the text and smiled so sappily that his roommate asked him if everything was alright. A question he had to repeat three times before he got an answer.

**AN: Awwwwww. The roommate comes back into the story in a bit. & he gets a name.**

**-SQ**


	5. Chapter 5: Back to School

**Author's Note: Ah, I just love writing this story. I'm such a sap. Really, is there a cuter couple than Kurt & Blaine? They were the cutest couple on Glee before they even became a couple!**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: There are several people involved in the creation, and therefore ownership, of Glee. I am not one of them.**

**Chapter Five: Back to School**

"Yoo hoo! Anybody awake in here?"

Kurt, who had been up for nearly two hours after sleeping basically all day the day before, looked up from his copy of _Seventeen_ magazine.

"If they weren't they would be now," he commented dryly as the older Warbler entered the room.

"Aw, I knew you were awake, Miss Clark told me," said Blaine. "I never would have done that otherwise. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better actually," said Kurt, laying aside his magazine and scooting over so that Blaine could take a seat beside him. "Depending on how I feel by lunch time I might even go to classes the last half of the day."

"That's great!" said Blaine. He sat on Kurt's bed and moved the brunette's bangs out of his face to get a better look at him.

"Yeah, your color's starting to come back. Don't push yourself, though. If you have to stay in bed for another day that's fine."

"Fine for _you_," grumbled Kurt. "You're not the one sitting here dying a slow agonizing death by boredom."

"Yeah," said Blaine. "I'm only sitting in class dying a slow agonizing death by boredom because you're not there with me."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know," said Blaine cheerfully. He leaned in and gave Kurt a quick half-hug. "I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

Kurt smiled.

"Okay. Get to class."

Blaine stood, took a step toward the door, and then turned back and flicked his hand over Kurt's hair. Then he left the room post-haste, face wearing a wide smirk.

Kurt's infuriated voice followed him out.

"Blaine Anderson! You are going to _pay_!"

*****AM*****

The beginning of the lunch period found Kurt standing in front of the nurse's office mirror, dressed in his Dalton Uniform, putting the finishing touches on his hair.

"Boo," said a voice behind him.

"Ah!" screamed Kurt, jumping, the hairspray can clattering to the floor.

"Relax!" laughed Blaine, his arms coming around Kurt from behind. "It's just me."

Kurt took a shuddery breath, his heart still racing at a hundred mile an hour.

"You scared me."

Blaine could feel the pounding of Kurt's heart through his blazer.

"Hey, shhh, breathe."

"Can you please not do that again?" said Kurt weakly. "I know you didn't mean any harm but I just—I just don't do well with being snuck up on."

Blaine winced.

"I'm sorry. I should have thought that out better. After what went down at McKinley… I know better than anyone what you went through. And I would _never_ hurt you. Ever."

"I know you wouldn't," said Kurt.

"Forgive me?"

Kurt smiled. How could he resist when Blaine looked at him like that?

"Oh don't be silly."

"What if I can't help it?" teased Blaine.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You can let go of me now, you know."

"Oh…" Blaine hastily dropped his arms to his sides. "You okay now?"

"Yes. Panic attack averted," he said, smiling.

"I see you're planning on rejoining the rest of the school after lunch," said Blaine as he and Kurt sat down to eat their lunches.

"Uh-huh," said Kurt. "My temperature's down to under a hundred. And I can't afford to miss any more school."

Blaine frowned. "I don't know if I like the idea of you going back to school when you still have a fever."

"Oh don't be such a worry-wart," said Kurt. "It barely even counts as a fever. And I really am feeling much better."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," said Blaine. He checked his watch. "We'd better go if we want to get to class on time."

Blaine offered Kurt his hand and the two stood together.

Kurt and Blaine didn't have any of their periods after lunch together, so they parted ways in the hallway.

"See you at Warbler's rehearsal?" asked Blaine.

"Yeah," said Kurt. "My voice definitely isn't up to singing yet, but I'll still be there."

"Cool. Take it easy, okay?"

"I will," Kurt promised. "Or at least as easy as is possible around here."

Blaine chuckled.

"See you at rehearsal."

"See you, Blaine."

*****AM*****

"Kurt!"

"Welcome back!"

"How are you feeling?"

Kurt smiled wearily. Truthfully how he was feeling was exhausted, but it was good to be back in Warbler Hall.

Kurt took his usual seat and a moment later Blaine slid in beside him.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"How was—?"

"Attention, attention," commanded Wes, rapping his gavel smartly on the desk in front of him. "We are now a minute and a half behind schedule for rehearsal."

Kurt and Blaine rolled their eyes at each other and then turned their attention to the front of the room as the rehearsal commenced.

*****AM*****

An hour later the Council released the Warblers for the afternoon.

Kurt turned to grab his messenger bag, only to find that Blaine had already slung it over his shoulder along with his own.

"Blaine—"

"No, please, allow me," said the older Warbler with a smile. He linked his arm with Kurt's. "You look tired.

"I am tired," Kurt admitted.

"How did your day go?" asked Blaine.

Kurt shrugged. "Fine. Same old same old. I have a bunch of work to make up, big surprise there."

"Maybe you should have waited another day before going back," said Blaine.

"Because that would definitely decrease the make-up work load," said Kurt sarcastically.

Blaine laughed. "Touché. Really though, you're not feeling sick again or anything?"

"No more than I was at lunch time," said Kurt with another shrug. Of course that wasn't strictly true; his muscles were starting to ache again and his head felt a little fuzzy, not to mention his throat refused to stop being sore no matter how much water he drank, but he didn't want Blaine making a fuss over him. Well, okay, he kind of did, but that only made him more determined not to have it happen.

"Are you going home or staying here tonight?" asked Blaine as the two of them walked down the halls together.

"I think I'll say here for one more night," said Kurt as they arrived at Blaine's dorm room. "I don't feel quite up to driving all the way back to Lima tonight."

"I could drive you if you want," offered Blaine, although a part of him really wanted Kurt to say at Dalton for another night. _Don't be a fool, Blaine_, he scolded himself silently as soon as the thought crossed his mind._ You _want _him to get better and be able to go back home!_

"No," said Kurt. "You don't have to do that. But thanks for the offer. I don't much feel like returning to the nurse's office yet either though," he added. "That room is decidedly un-fabulous."

Blaine laughed. Kurt was just too cute sometimes. Really, there should be a law against it. And there should definitely be a law against the funny wriggly feeling he was getting in his stomach right now. _Back on track, Blaine. Kurt is talking to you. Focus. Think of something smart to say._

"You can hang in my room for a while if you'd like," he said. "My roommate shouldn't be back until late anyway."

"Oh, thanks," said Kurt. "You're sure that's alright?"

"Positive," Blaine assured him as he unlocked the door and let them into the room. "Here we are, home-sweet-home."

**AN: Ooooh, I really like the next chapter. There are songs in it & quality time spent in Blaine's room with just Kurt, Blaine, & an acoustic guitar :)**

**I love reviews almost as much as I love Klaine ;)**

**-SQ**


	6. Chapter 6: Sing Me a Song

**Author's Note: So, I really like this chapter, but it does require me to apologize for being a bit of a song thief, as well as a song butcher. I wanted Blaine to write songs. I, however, am not a songwriter, so I borrowed a few of Darren's lovely songs for the purpose, since that makes at least some sense, using Darren's songs as Blaine's songs. I also wanted Blaine to have an in-progress song, hence the song-butchering. I spent a very long time breaking down Darren's absolutely gorgeous song "The Muse" and turning it into Blaine's work-in-progress. It killed me to do it, but it will appear later in its full and glorious form, I promise.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer**

**Chapter 6: Sing Me a Song**

Kurt looked around. He had never actually been in Blaine's dorm room before. It had an air of organized clutter; the desk was full of stacked books and papers, a school blazer was thrown over the back of the chair, and a basket of clean laundry sat in front of the open closet door. On the top of the basket could be seen a pair of white boxers adorned with red hearts.

"Ignore that," said Blaine, kicking the door shut on the basket. "So," he said, cheeks colored a dark crimson, "um, make yourself at home."

Kurt was still taking in the surrounding room. There were various magazine clippings and posters adorning the walls. A closer inspection of the desk revealed a picture of the Warblers posing in Warbler Hall which must have been taken before Kurt joined the group. Beside it, however, sat a small photograph of Kurt himself, dressed in street clothes, smiling at the camera.

Blaine saw where he was looking and blushed again. He was doing that with an unsettling regularity lately, especially in Kurt's presence.

"I—uh—just—you know…" he said stupidly.

_Dear God, Blaine, where did all your poise go?_ He demanded of himself angrily. _Stop stuttering like an idiot._

"Sit down, please."

Kurt sat on the edge of Blaine's bed, Blaine opting for the swivel chair opposite, the one sporting the Dalton blazer.

"So, what do you want to do?" asked Blaine.

"The schoolwork I missed during the last two days seems like a good place to start," said Kurt.

Kurt and Blaine buckled down on their various homework assignments. Blaine soon moved to the bed beside Kurt, where the two friends lay on their stomachs pouring over Kurt's missed assignments. Kurt coughed occasionally and soon began intermittently shivering and rubbing his arms for warmth. Concerned, Blaine scooted closer on the bed, until their elbow's touched. Blaine surreptitiously brushed his hand across the exposed skin of Kurt's neck. It felt warm to the touch.

"Maybe we should take a break," said Blaine. "They can't possibly expect you to finish this all in one day. You're not even completely well yet."

Kurt snorted and rubbed his fatigued eyes.

"With these teachers I wouldn't bet on that."

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine coaxed, "there's no sense in working yourself into the ground." He rolled over onto his back and gave Kurt his best puppy-dog look.

"Oh alright," said Kurt, who had never been able to resist that look yet. "But honestly I'm not really up to doing anything very interesting."

Blaine flipped himself right-side-up to sit beside the other boy, a hand resting on Kurt's back.

"Do you want me to take you back to the nurse's office?"

Kurt sat up as well, sitting so that his and Blaine's shoulders were just barely touching.

"I'm not feeling _that_ bad. Mostly just tired."

"And still a little feverish?" prompted Blaine.

"Maybe a little—no, Blaine, really, I'm alright," said Kurt as the dark-haired boy's face creased with worry. "I mean, I don't feel great, but I don't feel terrible either, and I'd rather be here with you than vegging out in that nurse's office room."

"I'm flattered," said Blaine with exaggerated emotion. "You find me more interesting than a blank white wall."

Kurt giggled and rolled his eyes.

"You're impossible."

"I know," said Blaine, and flicked his fingers at Kurt's hair.

"Blaine! I swear, one of these days I am going to kill you!"

"You haven't yet," the shorter boy pointed out cheekily.

As an answer Kurt lunged at him, pinning him down on the bed. Blaine yelled and then grabbed Kurt's arms and managed to reverse their positions.

They tussled for a few moments more until Kurt panted out, "Blaine—stop—I can't—"

Blaine released him as though he were a hot coal.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry—I forgot—are you okay?"

He offered Kurt his hand and hauled him into a sitting position leaning against the headboard.

"Yeah," said Kurt. "I'm alright. Just a little winded. Maybe that wasn't the best idea on my part…"

Blaine looked horribly guilty.

"Blaine, it's my fault! I started it! Don't look like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you just stepped on a little puppy!" He tugged on Blaine's arm and the older boy let himself be pulled against the headboard beside him, resting his head against the older boy's gelled curls. "I'm fine. Really."

"Just take it easy," said Blaine. "You're still not well." He touched Kurt's cheek. "You might still have a fever but I'm not sure and I haven't got a thermometer in here. Stay there. I'll get you some water."

He got off the bed and returned a minute later with a glass of water, which he pressed into Kurt's hands.

"Kurt," he said as the other boy sipped the water, "does it really bother you that much when I mess with your hair? 'Cause I can stop if you really—"

Kurt looked at Blaine. Damn but he was sexy with his teeth clamped around his bottom lip like that.

"Blaine, do you think I'm honestly mad at you for messing with my hair? I mean, yes, I do spend a good fifteen to twenty minutes on it every morning, and if anyone else touched it they would be so dead, but if I was honestly going to take offense with you for messing with it I would have done so by now."

Blaine smiled, getting a funny feeling in his chest when Kurt basically said that he was the only one allowed to touch the boy's perfectly styled hair.

"So you're not going to disown me if I mess with your hair?"

"I may get seriously peeved," Kurt warned, "but I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Good," said Blaine. "You're stuck with me too." And he ruffled Kurt's hair soundly.

"_Blaine!"  
_

*****AM*****

It was about twenty minutes later when Kurt discovered Blaine's guitar.

"Hey Blaine," he said, pulling the other boy's attention away from his laptop. "Can you actually play this?"

"Yeah," said Blaine. "Decently anyway."

"How come I never heard of this?" asked Kurt, picking up the instrument and admiring it. "I wish I could play the guitar. It's a lot more portable than a piano."

"I could teach you if you want," said Blaine, coming over to sit on the bed once more. "It's not too difficult. Here, let me show you."

He positioned himself behind Kurt, pulling the other boy into the 'V' of his legs and holding his hands over the brunette's on the strings.

"Put your left hand here, like that. And hold your right hand like this. No, not there, here. Good. Relax your fingers, Kurt, and strum.

A chord rolled out of the guitar.

"Hey! I did it!" said Kurt excitedly.

"Yes, you did," said Blaine, amused. "Now try this one."

Neither teen was unaware of their physical proximity as Blaine continued to coach Kurt in the basics of the guitar. Neither was Blaine unaware of the slight excess warmth that radiated from the younger boy's body, not _quite_ enough to be totally sure that Kurt was running a fever, but…

Finally Kurt lifted his hands from the strings and flexed his fingers.

"That is enough of _that_," he proclaimed, leaning back against het headboard. Or it would have been against the headboard, except that Blaine was in the way. By the time Kurt had remembered this Blaine's arms had already fastened themselves around him, holding him in place against his chest.

"You're too warm," Blaine murmured.

"I know," admitted Kurt. "I'll be fine. I don't want to go back yet. I don't feel too bad, I promise."

Blaine leaned his head forward so that his cheek was pressed against Kurt's.

"I think you still have a fever."

"I wouldn't be surprised," said Kurt. "But it's not high. I'm sure it'll be gone by morning."

"I can't help worrying, especially about you; it's just the kind of person I am."

"You should play something," said Kurt, unsure of what to say and desperate to escape from the awkward position.

"Alright," said Blaine, sliding away from Kurt and settling the acoustic on his lap. "What do you want to hear?"

"I don't know," said Kurt. "What do you know?"

"Come on," said Blaine. "At least give me a genre."

"Alright," said Kurt. "Broadway."

"How did I know you were going to say that?" said Blaine with a shake of his head and a chuckle. "But just sit there and relax and listen, don't you dare sing along," he warned. "You're sick and your voice is too precious a thing to break."

Blaine really did know how to play the guitar. Over the next hour he plucked and strummed his way through everything from _Some Enchanted Evening_ to _I Feel Pretty_ to _I Just Can't Wait to be King_ to _Dancing Through Life_, sounding like he had Multiple Personality Disorder as he sang all of the characters' parts. Kurt had to bite his tongue to keep from singing along.

Kurt gave a resounding applause as he finished the last number.

"Decently my ass! I can't believe I've never heard you play before. Have you ever tried writing your own songs?"

"Actually yes," said Blaine. "Most of them haven't been seen by anything but the garbage can though."

"Do you have any that you haven't thrown away?" asked Kurt.

Blaine hesitated.

"Yes…"

"Can I see them?"

"I've never really shared them with anyone before, Kurt…"

"_Please?"_

Kurt thought Blaine was going to say no until he tossed a stack of hand-written sheet music into his lap.

"Not all of its finished. Promise not to laugh."

Kurt picked up the sheet music and began to sort through it.

"These are really good, Blaine," he said, sounding impressed. "I'd love to hear you play one of them."

"I don't know, Kurt," said Blaine. "They're all really rough…"

"Blaine," said Kurt, "you are the most confident, self-assured guy I know. What's up with you?"

"It's just, my music is really personal, you know?" said Blaine, sounding slightly uncomfortable. "I wrote a lot of it when I wasn't in a very happy place."

"Like this one?" Kurt held out a few stapled sheets.

"Yes," said Blaine. "That one especially."

Kurt was still holding out the sheet music. Blaine sighed and picked up his guitar again.

"Keep it. I don't need it."

"_I've been alone, surrounded by darkness_

_And I've seen how heartless the world can be_

_And I've seen you cryin', you felt like it's hopeless_

_I'll always do my best to make you see_

_Baby you're not alone_

'_Cause you're' here with me_

_And nothin's ever gonna bring us down_

'_Cause nothin' can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

_Now I know it ain't easy but it ain't hard trying_

_Every time I see you smilin' and feel you so close to me_

_And you tell me_

_That baby you're not alone_

'_Cause you're here with me_

_And nothin's ever gonna bring us down_

'_Cause nothin' can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

_I still have trouble _

_I trip and stumble tryin' to make sense of things sometimes_

_I look for reasons but I don't' need 'em_

_All I need is to look in your eyes and I realize_

_Baby I'm not alone_

'_Cause you're' here with me_

_And nothin's ever gonna take us down_

'_Cause nothin' can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

_Oh 'cause you're here with me_

_And nothin's ever gonna bring us down_

'_Cause nothin', nothin', nothin', nothin'_

_Will keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through"_

When Blaine finished playing tears were running down Kurt's cheeks.

"That was beautiful. I wish you had sung that to me sooner."

"It was kind of what I wished someone would say to me at the time when I wrote it," said Blaine. He looked up at Kurt. "Look at me, I'm being depressing." He used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the tears from Kurt's face. "Don't cry. I'm a lot happier now, really. Is there another one you'd like me to play?"

Kurt smiled at Blaine—really, was there a more amazing boy in the entire world?—and shuffled through the music, pulling out another song.

"Is this one finished?"

"Yes. The first one that ever was, in fact," said Blaine. "I was barely fifteen when I wrote it. Let's see if I can remember it."

He played a few experimental notes on his guitar.

"Ah, yes, there we go…"

"_I feel like a loser, I feel like I'm lost_

_I feel like I'm not sure if I feel anything at all_

_But believe me, I'm not helpless_

_I just need someone to love_

_So my situation's rough_

_That just makes me a dumb human like you_

_I feel like a shortstop along third base_

_I may just help you but I still don't like your face_

_But believe me, I'm not hostile_

_I just want to hear you laugh_

_When I'm sarcastic like that_

_And that just makes me a dumb human like you_

_Why do I have this incredible need to stand up and 'please pay attention'?_

_It's the last thing that I need, to make myself seen_

_Well that ain't my intention_

_I feel like an artist who's lost his touch_

_He likes himself in his art, but not his art too much_

_But believe me I've got somethin' _

_I just don't know how to say_

_That I'm just fine with the way_

_With the way that I'm movin'_

_But that just makes me a dumb human_

_That just makes me, that makes me a human like you"_

"You wrote that when you were fifteen?" asked Kurt. "Wow. Why have you never said anything about it?"

Blaine shrugged, slightly embarrassed.

"I didn't know if I was any good."

"Believe me, you are," said Kurt fervently. "Hey, what's this?"

He was holding up yet another piece of sheet music.

Blaine went red.

"That—that's just something I've been working on. It's not finished. I'm having trouble with it."

"Can you give me an idea of what it sounds like?" said Kurt. "Tell me where you're having trouble? Maybe I can help you."

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. If he refused to share this song with Kurt the other boy would know something was up, and there was no reason for him to suspect…

"Okay. I'm warning you though, it's really rough."

He began to pick out chords slowly and hesitantly, squinting down at the paper on the bed beside him as he did so.

"_You're a diamond that I'm afraid to touch_

_You're damn near flawless and I'm sure you'd cut on my_

_My eyes, my hands, my head, my heart_

_You'd tear this canvas skin apart_

_Oh what a waste of human art that'd be._

"Okay," said Blaine. "I'm not really sure about this next part. It just doesn't feel right to me. Something's, I dunno, off, or missing, or—or something…"

"Just play," said Kurt softly.

"_You're like a dungeon but you're fragile too_

_Your take prisoners without meaning to_

_And you look so beautiful inside that we don't mind_

_Being turned to stone by you_

_I can't leave you alone_

_But Lord know I'd never survive your walls_

_How did you get here again?_

_With you I feel so alive_

_When I'm broken inside and feeling dead_

_How did you get here again?"_

"And that's all I have," said Blaine, setting the guitar down. "I know, it's terrible right? I think I'm just gonna scrap it."

"No…" said Kurt slowly. "Don't do that. You're right, it's rough, it doesn't flow and there's definitely something missing, but parts of it flow. There's really something there, you just need to find it. Parts of it were frankly amazing. It's going to be beautiful when you finish it."

Blaine swallowed, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe.

"You really think so?"

Kurt placed his hand over Blaine's. "I know so."

Blaine went back to playing Broadway and folk classics. Halfway through a rendition on _One Tin Solder_ he looked over to find that Kurt had fallen asleep against the pillows. He checked the time. Damn, it was nearly ten o'clock.

He considered waking Kurt and taking him back to the nurse's office, but the boy just looked so peaceful. So instead he picked up the his phone and selected Miss Clark's cell phone number, which she gave to all of the students in case of emergency.

"Hello, Annabelle Clark speaking."

"Hello, Miss Clark, this is Blaine Anderson."

"Blaine," said Miss Clark. "Please tell me you're calling to tell me that Kurt is with you, because he's not with me."

"Yes," said Blaine. "He's with me. I know I should have called you earlier, but we lost track of time. And now he's actually asleep so I was thinking that he could just stay here for the night."

"In your room?" said the nurse in a tone that was just a touch too innocent to be genuine.

"Yes," said Blaine, purposely ignoring the obvious implications of the question. "In my room. Is there a problem with that?"

"Oh, not at all," said Miss Clark innoxiously. "Goodnight, Mr. Anderson."

"Goodnight, Miss Clark."

Blaine received a similar reaction when his roommate, Sean, returned five minutes later.

He looked at the bed, looked at Blaine, and then did a double take, eyebrows shooting nearly to his hairline.

"And that is…?"

"My friend Kurt."

"The one you're always talking about?" Sean interjected.

"I'm not always talking about him," said Blaine somewhat defensively. "Anyway, we were hanging out and he fell asleep. He's just getting over being sick and I didn't want to wake him. Do you mind if he stays here for the night?"

"Uh…sure…" said Sean. "No problem. But where are you going to sleep? Surely not in the bed with him?"

"Uh…no, of course not," said Blaine, cheeks reddening. "On the floor I guess… There are some extra blankets in the closet."

Sean shrugged. "Suit yourself. It's your back. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go to sleep. In my bed. Alone."

"I really hadn't thought about it," mumbled Blaine. "I had other things on my mind."

"That I can believe," snorted Sean.

**AN: This chapter was pretty long. I know that had a lot to do with the three songs that were in it, but it's still over 2,500 words not including the songs, which is almost twice my norm. **

**Again, I really like this chapter, and I hope you do too. If you did, or didn't, or have anything at all to say, please send me a review! I will reply. Maybe you could tell me what you think of Sean. There's more of him in the next chapter and in later chapters too.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-SQ**


	7. Chapter 7: Good Morning

**Author's Note: I hope you like this chapter. Not too much happens really, but Kurt & Sean talk :)**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I made up Sean, but not Kurt or Blaine**

**Chapter Seven: Good Morning**

Kurt awoke feeling disoriented, confused, and very, very comfortable.

He squirmed in the bed. Definitely not his; too small. Not his sheets either, too silky—wait, were they actually made of _silk_? Kurt shifted again and then let out a harsh, painful cough. Right. Sick. Dalton. But nurse's office beds, even the ones at Dalton, didn't have silk sheets either…

"Mmmm…where am I…?"

"You're in Blaine Anderson's bed, on the third floor of the second building of the Dalton Academy dormitories," said a very amused voice.

That woke Kurt up. His eyes snapped open and he sat up so quickly that his head reeled.

_Blaine's bed?_ He looked around in panic and spotted the older Warbler in a tangle of blankets on the floor. A wave of relief washed over him. For a second there he had thought that he was actually sleeping in Blaine's bed _with Blaine_. Of course, Blaine has slept in his bed with him once, but that had been different; Kurt's bed was a lot bigger and Blaine had been passed out drunk at the time.

Kurt suddenly remembered the amused voice that had woken him and looked around for its owner, starting violently when he found him standing not a foot from the bed.

The boy, who sported a wealth of golden brown ringlets a lot longer and less tamed than Blaine's coiffed locks laughed.

"Sean," said the boy with a grin, extending his hand, "Blaine's long-suffering roommate."

"Kurt," said Kurt, taking the offered hand, "Blaine's—"

"—very good friend, believe me, I know," said Sean. "He talks about you rather a lot."

Kurt blushed and stammered, "He—he does?"

"Only the most wonderful things," Sean reassured him with a wink. This, of course, only made Kurt blush all the more.

Kurt suddenly realized that he was having a conversation with a boy he didn't know, while lying in bed sick, wearing a sleep-rumpled school uniform and not having done a thing with his hair.

"Oh my God, I must look awful!"

"Easy there, Tiger," said Sean as Kurt all but leapt from the bed, nearly stepping on Blaine in the process. "Jeez, Blaine wasn't exaggerating. You _are_ jumpy. Calm down before you hurt yourself. Or him."

Kurt looked at down at his rumpled uniform in despair.

"What am I doing here?"

"Blaine said you fell asleep and he didn't want to wake you. Said you'd been sick?"

"Yeah," said Kurt. He chewed his lip for a second. "Um, Sean, can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure. I mean, it depends on what it is, no weird sexual favors or anything."

"_What?"_ squawked Kurt.

Sean laughed.

"Relax, I'm kidding. What did you want to ask me?"

"Can you feel my forehead and tell me if you think I have a fever? I mean, I understand if that's awkward for you or—"

Sean cut him off. "I room with Blaine, Kurt, do you seriously think I have a problem with your sexuality? Here, let me feel your forehead."

Kurt smiled. "Okay."

Sean leaned over and touched his hand to Kurt's forehead.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "I'd say you probably have a bit of a fever. Nothing terrible though."

"Damn," said Kurt. "Oh, wait, I'm stupid, you probably don't want to be around me if I'm sick, do you?"

"No, it's fine," said Sean. "If I had a problem with it I wouldn't have let Blaine keep you here."

"I just don't want to get anyone sick," said Kurt, coughing into his elbow.

"Let Sean worry about Sean," said the other boy, patting Kurt on the shoulder.

"Okay," said Kurt. Then, "Sean, can I ask you another favor?"

"Fire away."

"Can you not tell Blaine? I really don't feel that bad and I can't afford to miss any more school. And I just l know he'd go all weird protective Blaine on me."

Sean laughed.

"'All weird protective Blaine,' I like that. If you don't think it's a big deal then I won't tell him. But if he finds out, I never knew anything. Blaine's fucking scary when he's angry."

"Mum's the word," agreed Kurt. He looked down at Blaine, who was still dead to the world. "Does anything wake him up?"

Sean shook his head. "A freight train carrying a herd of elephants could go through the room and he'd keep right on snoring."

"He doesn't!"

"He does," said Sean with a smirk. "Quite loudly, in fact."

"Blaine Anderson? The King of Dapper? I don't believe it."

At that moment Blaine gave a loud, prolonged, grunting snore.

Both of the other boys burst out laughing.

"Told you so," said Sean.

"So how does he manage to wake up for class in the mornings?" asked Kurt curiously.

"His alarm clock," said Sean. "He has his iPod speakers turned to full volume right beside his head. He only wakes up to this one song too. I tried changing it to 'American Idiot' once 'cause I was sick of hearing the same song every morning. He slept right through it."

"What song is it?"

"Something about Venezuala or Nicaragua or some such country like that. It's from a musical I think," said Sean with a shrug.

"I thought you'd been hearing it every morning for weeks," said Kurt. "You still don't know what it's called?"

"I've learned to tune Blaine's music out," said Sean. "He's usually listening either to Top 40 or Broadway, and I'm more of a Classic Rock/Alternative guy. You'll hear it for yourself in just a minute though. His alarm's about to go off."

Sure enough, the light on Blaine's iPod touch began to flash.

_It won't be easy, you'll think it strange_

_When I try to explain how I feel_

_That I still need your love after all that I've done_

Kurt's eyes widened.

_You won't believe me_

_And all you'll see is a girl you once knew_

_Although she is dressed up to the nines_

_And sixes and sevens with you_

"This is the song he wakes up to every morning?"

_I had to let it happen, I had to change_

_Couldn't stay all my life down at heel_

_Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun_

"Yep," said Sean. "Do you know it?"

_So I chose freedom_

_Running around, trying everything new_

_But nothing impressed me at all_

_I never expected it to_

"I sang it."

_Don't cry for me Argentina, the truth is I never left you_

Blaine's hand finally snaked out from his nest of blankets and fumbled with the iPod.

_All through my wild days, my mad existence_

"Alright, alright, I'm up. Damn thing…won't ever turn off properly."

_I kept my promise_

"Turn the fuck _off_ you son of a bitch!"

_Don't keep your distance—_

Blaine finally found the off switch and silenced the music. Then he raised his head, saw that he had an audience, and turned bright red.

"Oh…hi Kurt…"

Kurt just looked down at Blaine, his eyes very wide.

"You _swore_."

Sean choked and looked at Blaine.

"Don't tell me you've never sworn in front of him before!"

"No, as a matter of fact I haven't," said Blaine.

Sean roared with laughter.

Blaine glared at him.

"You are _not_ helping, Sean." He stood and gathered the tangled blankets from the floor. "Good morning, Kurt. How are you feeling?"

Kurt raised his hand in a so-so gesture. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Come on, Blaine, don't you trust me?" Kurt pouted.

Blaine laughed. "Alright, fine. I see you've met Sean."

"Aw, come on, Blaine, don't be mad," said Sean.

Blaine just shook his head, folding the blankets and placing them on the foot of the bed.

"I have the most impossible friends."

Kurt smiled and bent to help Blaine with the blankets.

"Sorry for falling asleep. Again."

"You were tired." Blaine grinned. "At least you used a real pillow this time."

Kurt blushed and smacked his friend's shoulder.

"Hey! Violence is not the answer!"

"No, it's not," said Sean, "it's the question. The answer is yes."

Kurt, Blaine, and Sean got ready for school, almost tripping over each other in the small space. Kurt was not looking forward to first period; he could already feel a headache starting up between his eyes.

While Blaine was looking for a pair of socks ("Sean! What are your boxers doing in my sock drawer?") Sean tapped Kurt on the shoulder and wordlessly held up a bottle of Ibuprofen.

"Thanks," said Kurt gratefully.

He fished out two of the little red pills and swallowed them just as Blaine's head emerged from the closet.

"Ready to go, Kurt?"

"Yep," said Kurt smiling. "You might want to actually put your socks and shoes on your feet first though."

Blaine looked down at the socks in his hand, then at his bare feet and smacked himself in the forehead.

"I knew I was forgetting something!"

He pulled the socks on, slipped his feet into his shoes and laced them up, then swung his bag over his shoulder.

"After you," he said, holding the door open for Kurt.

"Why thank you, monsieur, how very—_Blaine!_ _What have I told you about messing up my hair when it's actually going to be seen?_ _!_"

Sean watched the two friends chase each other down the hall and shook his head.

"That level of obliviousness should be criminal," he muttered to himself. "I am _drowning_ in hormones."

**AN: I kind of stuck references in here without realizing it until I was writing them. "A freight train carrying a herd of elephants could go through his room and he would keep right on snoring" is something my mom & I say about my little brother. And "Violence is not the answer, it is the question. The answer is yes" is something my friend likes to say.**

**I still very much appreciate reviews, always & forever :)**

**-SQ**


	8. Chapter 8: Overtaxed

**Author's Note: Actually I don't have that much to say O.o I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Glee is [not] mine**

**Chapter Eight: Overtaxed**

Kurt shared his first four periods of the day with Blaine. He knew that the older boy was still keeping an eye out for signs of illness, and he also knew that he was still kind of sick and maybe should have taken one more day off of school. Needless to say he was quite grateful for the ibuprofen that Sean had given him that morning.

For his part, Blaine felt slightly drunk off Kurt's presence. He hadn't realized how much he had come to take the other boy for granted; they had known each other only a few months, but already Blaine couldn't imagine his life without Kurt in it. And last night and this morning had been the most fun he had had in a long while.

"Welcome back, Kurt," said Wes, clapping him on the back as the two seniors met up with them for lunch.

"Glad you're feeling better," said David as the four friends slid into their seats.

"Me too," said Kurt, though he wasn't actually feeling as well as he would have liked, or even as well as he had been that morning. Still, it was definitely an improvement from a couple days ago, even if he had had help from Mr. Ibuprofen.

*****AM*****

"Kurt," said Blaine as they stood up from the table at the end of the lunch period. "You hardly touched your food."

"My appetite still hasn't really come back," said Kurt, shrugging. "I'll grab a snack if I'm hungry later."

"Okay, said Blaine, giving his friend a tight hug. "I'll see you after school. Take it easy, Kurt."

Kurt blushed and hugged Blaine back, heart thumping erratically.

"I'll do my best. See you."

Blaine watched him until he had rounded the corner. Wes's hand on his shoulder brought him out of his daze.

"Earth to lover-boy. It's time for class."

"Oh…" said Blaine, shaking his head, "right."

*****AM*****

Kurt sat in the back of sixth period history with his achy head pillowed on his arms, trying to keep himself from shivering and/or falling asleep.

The pills Sean had given him had begun to wear off right around lunchtime, and now he felt absolutely miserable. It was obvious that he had overtaxed himself by coming to school today and yesterday, and he wanted nothing more than to be lying back in that bed in the nurse's office, or better yet, in Blaine's bed, with Blaine's arms wrapped around him…

The bell jerked him out of his fevered musings and he dragged himself out of his chair and onto his feet. The room spun dizzyingly and he gripped the desk tightly for support. There was no way he was going to Warbler's rehearsal today; it would be a miracle if he made it as far as the nurse's office.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

Kurt couldn't seem to lift his head high enough to see the person who was speaking, and their voice was so distorted in his ears that his fuzzy brain couldn't place it.

"No," he said, his words coming slow and thick, he was feeling worse by the moment. "Blaine…"

Kurt felt an arm wrap around his ribcage and pull him painfully upright.

"Whoa, Kurt, you're burning up," said the voice, which he belatedly recognized as belonging to his friend and classmate Mark Donahugh. "Let's get you to the nurse's office."

"Blaine…please…"

"We'll see if we can find Blaine along the way," said the voice that must belong to the arm that was currently wrapped around him. But arms didn't have voices, did they? And he had thought it was Mark's voice. It was Mark's voice. So it must be Mark's arm too. Kurt's head hurt, and little black spots were swimming in his vision as he followed Mark out of the classroom and into the hallway.

"Blaine…" he whimpered again.

"Trent," Kurt heard Mark say, and he pulled his head up to look at the two boys standing in front of him. "Can you try and find Blaine for us, please?"

*****AM*****

Blaine was staring at his Statistics worksheet, pencil suspended in space above the paper, his thoughts dwelling on Kurt. Had anyone ever meant as much to Blaine as Kurt did? If they had he couldn't remember it, which was a pretty good indication that they hadn't. Blaine knew without question that he would do just about anything for the slightly younger boy. And the feeling he got when he was around Kurt… Blaine smiled a dreamy smile. Damn that boy was beautiful. And fun and witty and…

_Oh my God,_ thought Blaine, _Are Wes and David _right_? _Do_ I like him as more than a friend?_

Blaine swallowed. It was absurd, that wasn't the kind of relationship he and Kurt had; hadn't he told that to Wes and David often enough? And yet… Blaine _had _been feeling, well, different around Kurt lately—the unexplainable butterflies in his stomach, the ridiculous blushing and stammering, _kissing_ Kurt on the forehead when he left his room. After all, why not? They were both gay, they cared about each other a great deal, Kurt had pretty much told him that he had expected Blaine to ask him out on Valentine's Day…

_I'll see him again at rehearsal,_ he thought to himself. _Then I'll know._

*****AM*****

Blaine was on his way to the choir room for Warblers' rehearsal when Trent ran up to him and grabbed his arm.

"Blaine, Mark asked me to find you. Kurt's looking for you in the History Wing."

"Kurt?" said Blaine in confusion. "But I'm about to see him at rehearsal."

"I don't know, man," said Trent, "I think it might be important."

"Where did you say he was?" said Blaine, a knot forming in his stomach.

"The History Wing."

Blaine took off quickly down the hallway, trying to quell the panic bubbling up in his stomach. It was probably nothing, it was probably nothing, it was—

"Oh my God."

Kurt was leaning against the wall just outside the doorway of his history classroom, pale as a ghost; even from this distance Blaine could see that his slim frame was wracked with shivers.

"Kurt, what happened? Are you—?"

An expression of relief passed over Kurt's face, then his strength seemed to give out altogether and he slid almost gracefully to the floor in a dead faint.

"_Kurt!"_

Blaine skidded across the floor to his side, not noticing the ripping sound as both knees of his uniform pants split.

Blaine was fast, but gravity was faster; Kurt's head hit the floor with a sharp crack before Blaine could reach him. As soon as he did the first thing he noticed was that the younger boy was actually radiating heat.

"Call Miss Clark," said Blaine in a deceptively even voice while frantically feeling the back of Kurt's head. His hand came away sticky with blood. "Somebody call Miss Clark _now_!"

Several cell phones were whipped out of pockets, but Blaine barely registered them. He pulled Kurt's head into his lap and sat there, trying to staunch the flow of blood with his fingers.

"What happened?" This was Miss Clark's voice.

"He passed out and hit his head," Blaine heard himself say in a voice far more calm than he was feeling. "He's bleeding. And running a really high fever."

Miss Clark knelt beside Blaine.

"Give him to me, honey."

Blaine raised his head as Miss Clark disentangled his fingers from Kurt's hair and gently eased the boy off his lap and onto a stretcher, which was then lifted by two medics. Blaine didn't even realize he was crying until David replaced Miss Clark beside him and offered him a tissue.

"Come on," said the older boy gently, though he, too, was obviously shaken, "Miss Clark said for Wes and me to take you up to the nurse's office and wait for her. She's taking Kurt to the hospital right now."

"I want to go," said Blaine, still in that calm, even, toneless voice. "Please, I need to go with him."

David shook his head.

"There's no room in the ambulance. And you're not family. Miss Clark will take you later if the hospital allows it."

"David," said Blaine, his voice finally cracking on his friend's name, "he has to be okay, he just _has_ to."

"I know," said David, wrapping his arms around his friend and drawing him to his feet. "I know."

*****AM*****

Annabelle Clark sat in the back of the ambulance, sandwiched between two paramedics, one of whom was bandaging Kurt's head and talking his temperature, while the other asked Miss Clark questions off a clipboard on his lap.

"Your name?"

"Annabelle Clark."

"Relationship to the patient?"

"School nurse."

"Patient's name?"

"Kurt Hummel."

"Patient's age?"

"Sixteen."

"How long has he been ill?"

"Four days."

"Does he have any pre-existing medical conditions?"

"No."

"Any history of high fevers, fainting spells, or dizziness?"

"No."

"Any previous concussions?"

"Not that I know of."

Miss Clark rubbed her forehead. She should have insisted that Blaine bring Kurt back to her office last night. She shouldn't have let him go back to school so early. She had let her personal feelings about Kurt and Blaine get in the way of doing her job ; she shouldn't have trusted another student to take care of her patient. But that wasn't being fair on Blaine. He was a very responsible young man who obviously cared about Kurt a great deal; he would never have let Kurt go back to classes if he hadn't thought he was okay, just like she wouldn't have let him go back to classes if she hadn't thought he was okay. Obviously something had happened between this morning and this afternoon to change that.

*****AM*****

As soon as Kurt was checked into the hospital and his parents called, Annabelle called a cab back to Dalton. The doctors at the hospital could do a lot more for Kurt than she could, and there was a distraught teenage boy waiting in her office for some kind of news.

**AN: All is not well after all. Told you there'd be drama, didn't I? ;)**

**-SQ**


	9. Chapter 9: Hospital

**Author's Note: Gah! Yes it will be updated, anonymous reviewer BlooperReel! It hasn't been **_**that**_** long! I have 5 other fics running, so updating each story roughly every 2 weeks means updating period every 1 to 3 days in addition to, you know, life. You don't have to tell me 6 is too many, I know that. I had 3 running, they got stuck on a broken computer, I started 3 more. I got the others back. Now I have six. Oops. I assure you, yet again, that I am not a fic abandoner.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Exactly**

**Chapter Nine: Hospital**

Blaine sat on a plastic chair in the Dalton nurse's office, head in his hands, Wes and David seated in the chairs on either side of him. When they heard the door open all three boys looked up.

"They've got him stable," said Miss Clark before the boys could open their mouths. "His fever is dangerously high, but they've got him hooked up to an IV and oxygen to prevent brain damage. The blow to his head still has him unconscious and may for a while, but they're hoping there won't be any long-term effects, though they can't be certain yet. That is the most immediate danger, complicated by the high fever. The hospital is not allowing visitors until his family arrives, but you are more than welcome to come back with me to wait for them."

Blaine nodded mutely, not trusting his voice. The words 'unconscious', 'dangerously high', 'IV', 'oxygen', and 'brain damage' swam through his head, threatening to shatter his tenuous composure.

"I know you want to blame yourself, Blaine, but that isn't going to help anyone. Kurt's a strong kid. He'll make it through this."

Blaine nodded again and stood up. So did Wes and David.

"We'll take him," said Wes.

"Are you sure?" said Miss Clark.

Wes and David nodded.

"It's no trouble," said David. "I have my car. And Dalton needs its nurse." And, the unspoken understanding: _Blaine needs us_.

"Alright," said Miss Clark after a moment.

"Don't hesitate to call me."

It was a tribute to the seriousness of the situation that neither Wes nor David returned this statement with a flirtatious quip.

The three boys walked out of the nurse's office and toward the parking lot.

"What about Warblers rehearsal?" said Blaine suddenly, his voice sounding hoarse and tight from stress and disuse.

The other two gave him strange looks.

"What about it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be there?"

"Blaine, Kurt is in the hospital. There _is_ no Warblers rehearsal for today anymore," said Wes.

"You _cancelled_ Warblers rehearsal?

"We felt there were more pressing matters at hand," said David.

"You _cancelled _Warblers rehearsal?" said Blaine again. "You've _never_ cancelled Warblers rehearsal! Ever!"

"We've never had one of our members collapse in the hallway and be sent to the emergency room right before it started either," said Wes.

"Besides," said David, "how are we supposed to rehearse without our lead soloist and our only countertenor?"

The ten minute drive to the hospital went by in silence and but for the quiet sound of the radio playing Top 40 hits in the background.

When they entered the lobby Blaine went directly up to the desk.

"Has Kurt Hummel's family arrived yet?"

The receptionist looked at him from behind thick brown lashes.

"May I ask who want to know?"

"Blaine Anderson," said Blaine. "I'm a friend of Kurt's from school. I was there when he… Miss Clark, our school nurse, said I could wait here for them to arrive."

"One moment," said the young woman smoothly.

She opened her notebook and ran a purple manicured nail down the page.

"No they have not arrived yet," she said, looking up through her lashes again, on finger twining around a lock of reddish-brown hair. "And I'm afraid I won't be able to admit any visitors until they are here to say yea or nay." She tapped her purple nails lightly against the desk and ran the edge of her lower lip through her teeth. "Until then you are more than welcome to wait here, though." The receptionist tucked the lock of hair behind her ear and leaned her elbows on the desk in front of her. "My name is Shelby, by the way," she added, tapping the nametag on her chest, "if you…need anything."

"Thanks, Shelby," said Blaine. He turned and sat down in one of the green, padded chairs, hooking his ankles around the legs.

Wes and David sat down on either side of him.

Wes laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay, man?"

"Yeah." Blaine rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I'm alright. I just… He was supposed to be getting better. He _was_ getting better. Wasn't he? You saw him at lunch. He was getting _better_."

"Hey, remember what Miss Clark said? It's not your fault." Wes squeezed his shoulder. "You're right. He _was_ better earlier."

"What am I going to tell his family, Wes?" said Blaine. "I promised Finn I'd take care of him. I promised them all I'd take care of him when he transferred to Dalton. He was my responsibility!"

"Blaine," said David, "no one thinks he's your responsibility but you."

The lobby doors opened and Blaine's head jerked up automatically. A young couple with a fussing toddler entered and Blaine returned his gaze to his lap.

"Thanks for coming with me guys," he said. "I'd probably drive myself crazy if I had to wait here by myself."

"We know you would," said David. "That's why we came."

The lobby doors opened four more times before Burt, Carole, and Finn came through them, looking extremely tense and worried.

Blaine stood immediately, then hesitated. What was he supposed to say?

Finn saved him the trouble.

"Blaine! Dude, what happened?"

Blaine forced himself to meet Finn's eyes, expecting to see blame and accusation, but all he saw was confusion and anxiety. Bless Finn's simple heart.

"He was feeling better so he went to school today. He was okay at lunch"—Blaine's voice cracked and he cleared his throat—"relatively speaking. I should have—he didn't eat much, and he looked tired…I shouldn't have let him go to school at all… By the time school let out his fever had spiked again. He fainted. I wasn't fast enough and he hit his head. It was…bad. I'm sorry."

Blaine felt a hand on his hair and looked up. Kurt's step-mother, Carole, was looking at him sympathetically.

"Are you alright, hon?"

"Me?"

"It can't have been easy," said Carole, "seeing something like that happen."

Burt, meanwhile, was terrorizing the auburn-haired receptionist.

"Where is my son! ?"

"Sir, it I could get your name I could—"

"Burt Hummel. And I want to see my son Kurt! Where is he? !"

"Burt, honey," calm down said Carole gently, laying a calming hand on his elbow.

"Like hell I'll calm down!" said Burt. "I want to see my son!"

"I'll call a nurse to take you to his room," said the frightened receptionist. "If you'll fill out these papers in the meantime, just verifying you are who you say you are…"

When the nurse arrived to show Kurt's family to the boy's room Blaine didn't even ask to go with them. What right did he have to do that? What was he even doing here? Who was he? Just Kurt's friend, nothing more than that. No different from Wes or David. He sank back into his chair between them.

"Aren't you going with them?" said Wes.

"They didn't ask me to," said Blaine. "I'm not a part of the family."

"But you're—"

"His friend," said Blaine bitterly.

Wes and David exchanged a look.

"He'd want you there," said David. "You know he would."

Blaine avoided his friend's gaze.

"Don't start on that again, David, please. Not now."

*****AM*****

Kurt looked so small, lying on the white sheets of the hospital bed, head wrapped in thick cotton bandages, IV stuck in his arm, oxygen mask fastened over his face.

"Is he gonna be okay?" whispered Finn. He put out his hand but then drew it back, afraid to touch his step-brother in case he broke or something.

"There isn't any reason he shouldn't be," said the nurse. "As long as there are no unforeseen complications."

"Are those likely?" croaked Burt, looking down at Kurt with a lost, broken look on his face. All his anger seemed to have evaporated at the sight of his son.

"It's still early yet," said the nurse carefully. "But the doctors say there is every reason to be optimistic."

Burt knelt by the bed and gingerly took Kurt's limp hand.

"Why my son?" he said, and then more angrily, "Why my son? ! Doesn't he have enough trouble in his life without this too? Where is that boy? !"

"What boy?" asked Carole.

"His friend. The one that was in the lobby."

"Blaine?" said Finn, looking around and noticing that Blaine wasn't there. "I dunno. He was right behind me when we left the lobby…"

"I want to see him," growled Burt. "I want to ask him why my son is lying here in this hospital bed when I spoke with him on the phone just yesterday and he told me he was fine."

"Now, Burt," said Carole. "It's not fair to blame Blaine."

"I'm not blaming anybody," snapped Burt. "I just want an explanation."

Carole sat down next to him, smoothing down Kurt's hair with her free hand.

"Finn, dear, could you go and see if Blaine is still in the lobby?"

"Okay." Finn looked back at Kurt again, swallowing back the thickness in his throat and blinking away the prickling in his eyes. "Yeah."

He walked back down the hallway and into the lobby. Blaine was still there, sitting on one of the cushioned waiting chairs in between two boys where looked vaguely familiar to Finn.

"Blaine," said Finn, his voice thick and damp. Blaine raised his head. "Burt wants to talk to you."

The curly-haired boy winced.

"Alright. I'm coming."

Blaine's voice sounded dead and empty. Finn looked sideways at him as they started back down the hall.

"Are you okay?"

Blaine looked over at him.

"Are you?"

"Not really."

They arrived at the door to Kurt's room and Finn knocked once before letting himself and Blaine inside.

"Hello, Mrs. Hudson, Mr. Hummel," said Blaine, his voice rough and lifeless.

"Blaine, isn't it?" said Burt gruffly.

"Yes sir."

"Would you care to tell me what happened to my son?"

Blaine swallowed.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Hummel. I thought he was okay. He said he was okay. He went to school today and for the first half of the day he seemed—I should have noticed, I was too distracted by… He was sick and I was supposed to be there and I wasn't. I'm so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me."

"Now, son," said Burt, sounding slightly uncomfortable. "I never said I was angry with you."

Blaine sniffled.

"Did they… Did they say if he's going to be okay?"

"There's no reason he shouldn't be," said Carole. "Blaine, honey, don't blame yourself."

Finn started.

"Blame yourself? But Blaine, it isn't your fault that Kurt's sick."

Blaine sniffled again and wiped his eyes. He did not have a right to cry over Kurt, certainly not in front of Kurt's family.

Finn laid a hand on a slightly awkward hand on his shoulder.

"You're making me tear up, dude."

The two boys exchanged glances.

"I promised you I'd take care of him," said Blaine.

"And you did," said Finn firmly.

"Blaine, you go on back to school and get some rest, okay?" said Carole. "We'll keep you updated on how he's doing, okay?"

Blaine nodded.

"Thank you," he said thickly. "But you don't have to do that."

"Don't be silly," said Burt gruffly, speaking for the first time in many minutes. "You want to know. And Kurt would want you to too."

"Thank you," said Blaine again.

Finn grabbed his hand and bumped their shoulders together.

"Any time, dude."

"Look after him," said Blaine quietly.

"You know I will," Finn assured him.

*****AM*****

When Blaine returned to the lobby Wes and David were still there.

"How'd it go?"

"Okay," said Blaine, running a hand through his curly, once-gelled hair. "Come on, let's get back to school."

**AN: Aww, Blaine. How could you stay mad at him for long even if there **_**was**_** something for you to be mad at him about? Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I enjoy reviews ;)**

**-SQ**


	10. Chapter 10: Episode

**Author's Note: If Blaine seems a bit OOC in this chapter bear with me, okay, 'cause there is a basis for it, & all shall be explained in due course. And there's enough near the end of this chapter to not have you completely and utterly baffled as to why he would do such a thing. Anyway, you shall soon see what I'm talking about.**

**Disclaimer: Still applies**

**Chapter 10: Episode**

When Blaine arrived back at his dorm, mentally and emotionally drained, stretched to his breaking point, and looking forward to at least trying to find some respite in sleep, he was met at the door by a stricken-looking Sean.

"Blaine," he said, speaking in a rush, "oh God, I heard what happened, is he okay?"

Blaine raked a few bedraggled curls back from his forehead and resisted to urge to snap at his roommate.

"He should be," he said in a deliberate tone that he hoped would convey the message, _just leave me alone right now, I'm not up to dealing with people at the moment_.

Obviously the message was not conveyed or Sean chose to ignore it.

"Should be? Is it bad?"

"They can't be sure yet," said Blaine, closing his eyes. Damn he was tired. "His fever's really high and he hit his head pretty hard, but they don't—they think he should come out okay." _I hope. Oh God please let him be okay. Oh God, oh God, oh—_

Sean was still speaking. Blaine dragged his shot brain back to his roommate.

"…Blaine, I'm so sorry, if I had thought it was anything serious I would have said something…"

That caught Blaine's attention.

"You would have said something about what?"

Sean sucked in his cheeks and then blew them out in a great rush of air.

"This morning, before you woke up, Kurt and I both woke up before you and we were talking, and he asked me to feel his forehead and see if I thought he had a fever. I did and it felt as though he probably did, but he asked me not to tell you because you'd only worry. I also gave him some ibuprofen before we left for class, while you were looking for socks, to help him through the day. He looked a little off and I just wanted to help."

"You what?" All of the usual gaiety and warmth was gone from Blaine's voice, leaving it sounding hard and dead.

"Blaine, I'm so sorry, I didn't think it was anything serious or I never would have—I feel awful. If there's anything I can do…"

Blaine stared at his roommate for a moment as if he didn't recognize him, then launched himself at the other boy.

"Blaine! Stop!" said Sean in alarm as the shorter boy shoved him back against his desk, knocking the wind out of him and jarring his spine

"You knew he was still sick and you didn't say anything?" snarled Blaine. "You let him tell me he was fine and go to school when he still had a fever and wasn't feeling well? You _gave him ibuprofen so he could pretend to be okay_?"

"Blaine!" said Sean, sounding scared. "Blaine, stop it! You're hurting me!"

"Kurt's in the fucking _hospital_!" shouted Blaine, slamming Sean against the desk once more.

"You said he's going to be fine!" said Sean, struggling to break free of Blaine's iron grip.

"But what if he's not! ?" Blaine slapped his roommate across the face. "It's going to be all _your fucking fault_!"

"Blaine, what the hell are you doing?"

Wes and David, passing by the open doorway on their way to their own dorm, had stopped in shock at the scene inside of Blaine's.

"It's his fault Kurt went to class to day, his fault Kurt's in the hospital in danger of brain damage!"

"Brain damage?" said Sean, horrified.

Blaine drew back his fist to punch Sean but Wes caught his arm from behind and David grabbed him around the waist and dragged him back away from the wide-eyed boy.

"Get a grip man!" David grunted, tightening his hold on the struggling soloist.

"FUCK YOU!" shouted Blaine.

"Are you okay, Sean?" asked Wes.

The shell-shocked young man straightened up, gingerly feeling the base of his spine and his smarting cheek.

"Yeah…"

"Then I advise you to leave for a while, while David and I sort out our friend over there," said Wes.

David, his arms still clamped around a cursing Blaine's waist, was rather less eloquent.

"Get—out."

Sean cast a light frightened look at Blaine and hurriedly did as he was told.

Wes turned back to Blaine, who David had deposited on his bed.

"Blaine, give it up," David was saying. "You're a midget. I'm, like, a foot taller than you _and _I'm on the football team."

Blaine glared sullenly up at the black boy and slumped against the wall behind him.

Now assured that Blaine would not try to attack them, Wes and David sat down on either side of him.

"Now, are you ready to explain to us _rationally_ what the hell is going on here and why you were going after Sean like a raving lunatic?"

"He knew Kurt was still sick, he knew he had a fever and wasn't feeling well but he didn't say anything, he promised not to tell me, he gave him ibuprofen, he helped him pretend that he was okay when he wasn't!" Wes and David remained silent, letting Blaine rant until he ran out of breath. The younger boy's shoulders hitched. "He saw it, why didn't I?"

"Ah," said Wes, "and now we get to the heart of it."

"I failed him," said Blaine, waving his hands and picking up speed again. "He was still sick and I was too busy being an oblivious, self-centered ass to notice and now he's in the hospital and I don't even get to be with him because I'm still just his friend even though I think I might be in love with!" He ran out of breath again and buried his face in his hands.

Wes and David looked at each other.

"Okay…" said David.

"When did this revelation come about?"

"I mean, _we've_ known for ages, but…"

"Today," said Blaine, lifting his face once more. "I just… I was thinking about how he's made more feel these last few weeks…my feelings for him…how I see him, it's been changing…I could feel it, but I didn't have the balls to admit it to myself. And now it's so fucking _obvious_ but I can't _do_ anything about it. It's too late. I could be there with him, as his _boyfriend_, but I'm not and I have no one to blame but myself. For all of it.

"Blaine, we've been over this," said Wes. "You can't keep blaming yourself for this. You're not Mr. Perfect and you're not God. It's not your job to carry the world on your shoulders."

"When you to take too much on you crack," said David.

"Like now," said Wes.

"With Sean," said David.

Blaine put his face in his hands again.

"What he said, it just made me so mad. I just—lost it."

"Yes," said Wes seriously. "You did."

David put a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"It's been a long time since you've had an episode like that, Blaine."

"Almost a year now," said Wes.

Blaine let his head fall onto David's shoulder.

"God, what's happening to me? Kurt makes me feel so many different things it's a wonder I don't explode. Being around him is the best feeling in the world, it's intoxicating, and I'm truly happier than I can ever remember feeling in my life. But it's also scary as hell, and it brings back everything from back then, everything I've spent the last year and a half trying to forget.

David rubbed his back.

"You're a great guy, Blaine. You know, Wes and I were so happy when you met Kurt, because he could give you what we couldn't, no matter how much we wanted to."

"What you really needed," added Wes.

"But remember, you don't have to go through this alone," said David. "It's no you against the world anymore."

Blaine nodded.

"I know. I didn't mean to shut you guys out."

"We know," said David.

"Come on," said Wes, "get your stuff."

"What?" said Blaine.

"Get your stuff," repeated Wes.

"Why?"

"Because you're sleeping in our dorm tonight."

"Guys, no. I don't—"

"I said you _are_ sleeping in out dorm tonight," said Wes. "No, 'do you _want_ to sleep in our dorm tonight?' So get your stuff."

"I think Sean might appreciate having some time to himself tonight," said David pointedly.

Blaine glowered at them and pounded his fist into the bedspread.

"Blaine," said David. "We understand, but that doesn't mean we're going to pretend that this kind of thing is okay. You've been there, remember? We're not going to let you go back there."

Blaine sighed.

"I know. And I don't want to go back there, ever." He placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the bed. "I'm gonna get my things, okay?"

Wes pushed himself up from the bed as well and clapped Blaine on the back.

"That's our boy."

**AN: Whenever I set out to write a fic in which things happen to Kurt, it always turns into an analysis of Blaine's character & past O.o (always being 3 times, since I only have 3 Glee fics right now, but that is 100%) I always love to hear what you think of the story, but I would **_**especially**_** love to hear what you thought of this chapter.**

**-SQ**


	11. Chapter 11: A Little Story

**Author's Note: Guess what we start getting into during this chapter? Blaine's history! :D Are you excited? Because I rather am. This chapter, as you can see, is a bit on the long side for this story. It's not **_**quite **_**as long as it appears, since there is a fairly lengthy song stuck in the middle of it, but it's still over 2000 words not including the song. The song is another one of Darren's which I have borrowed for the purpose of having Blaine be a songwriter. Read on!**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Let's pretend that you **_**don't**_** know that I don't own **_**Glee**_**…no, I can't, it's too painful imagining my readers being that stupid.**

**Chapter Eleven: A Little Story**

That night, as he had so many nights during the second half of his sophomore year, Blaine slept in a sleeping bag on the floor between Wes's and David's beds. Even knowing full well that they were doing it purposefully to distract him, Blaine listened to their idle chatter and banter, occasionally throwing in a word or two, until it lulled him to sleep. When Wes's extraordinarily bad drummer joke was interrupted by a loud snore from their curly-haired compatriot the two older boys stifled laugher and looked down at him.

"Out like a light," said David in satisfaction.

"He'll be a bitch to wake up tomorrow," said Wes.

"Yeah, have fun with that."

"What? Why me?"

"Because I have a previous engagement with one very shaken up roommate."

Wes glared at him.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Of course."

*****AM*****

Once he was out Blaine slept like a baby, but Sean did not sleep so well that night. He woke early and went down to the cafeteria to get breakfast. When he returned to his and Blaine's dorm he found David seated on Blaine's bed.

"Hello," said David genially. "I let myself in, I hope you don't mind, Blaine gave Wes and me keys a while back."

"Oh…" was all Sean could think to say.

"Sit down," said David, motioning to the empty bed. "I don't know if we've ever formally met, I'm David." He extended his hand for Sean to shake.

"Sean," said Sean, shaking David's proffered hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sean," said David.

"Excuse me for asking," said Sean, "but what are you doing here?"

"I was just getting to that," said David. "I am here to tell you a story."

"A story?"

"Yes. A little story about a boy named Blaine Anderson.

"Wes and I had just started our Junior year here at Dalton. We'd been best friends since middle school. Of course we had other friends, but the two of us were practically inseparable, the dynamic duo. Anyway a new student transferred in just a few weeks into the school year. He was going to be living on our floor, but was a year below us, so we didn't really pay much attention when he moved in.

He was a quiet kid, the new guy, kept to himself mostly. A few people tried approaching him to be his friend, but seemingly he rebuffed them all.

Then one day, it was about two weeks after Blaine had transferred, that would make it around a month and a half, maybe a bit less, into the school year, but anyway, about two weeks after Blaine had transferred, Wes and I were on our way to Warbers rehearsal when we passed one of the practice rooms in the music building…

"_Wait!" Wes stopped so suddenly that David crashed into him._

"_What?" said David in annoyance, rubbing his shoulder. "What'd you stop for?"_

"_Shhh!" hissed Wes. "Listen!"_

"_Listen to _what_?" said David. "I don't hear—" and then he stopped, because he _did_ hear something, and it sounded like somebody playing the guitar._

"_Who here at Dalton plays the guitar?" asked David._

"_Not very many people," said Wes, moving closer to the door._

"_Where are you going?"_

"_To see who it is."_

"_But we have rehearsal! Besides, that's called spying."_

_Wes rolled his eyes._

"_I just want to see who it is, David. It'll only take a minute."_

_He crept forward to the door of the practice room, David close on his heels. They poked their heads around the doorframe._

_A curly-haired boy was sitting backwards on the piano bench, head bent over the acoustic guitar cradled in his lap._

"_Hey!" whispered David. "It's the new kid! What's his name? Blake or something I think."_

"_Shhh!" said Wes, for the boy had just opened his mouth and added his voice to the sound of his guitar._

I wake up, I'm lonely, let's talk about how we

Love to talk on the telephone

We would hang up and go back to absolutely nothing

And by absolutely nothing I mean pick up the phone

He sun is out, the moon is smiling

In the corner of his eyes he's crying for his

Next new arrival for the rest of the night

Good ol' Moon is like me

We walk free but we're stuck in here

I'll pick up the comics and sympathize with Linus

And the Z's Dagwood leaves behind

As for me, I wouldn't mind just to join him along

I mean just look at these two pictures

Can you tell me what's wrong?

The sun is out, the moon is smiling

In the corner of his mind he's timing his

Next new arrival for the rest of the night

Good ol' Moon is like me

We walk free but we're stuck in here

No more pain for a while

You and I could sit in the sun and smile

Maybe then we'd be friends, yeah, the moon, sun, and me

And we could sing together in perfect harmony

Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

No more pain for a while

You and I could sit in the sun and smile

Maybe then we'd be friends, yeah, the moon, sun, and me

And we could sing together in perfect harmony

Doo doo doo doo doo doo, oh!

Wake up, I'm lonely, let's talk about how we

Need to find a better dream

'Cause it's getting much darker, the sun is worn out

And I think it's time for you and I to get some sleep

Oh the moon is out and the sun is trying

Not to look upset but man he's dying

For his next new arrival for the rest of the night

Good ol' Moon is like me,

We walk free

Good ol' Moon s like me,

We walk free

Good ol' Moon is like me,

We walk free but we're stuck in here

_There was a moment of silence while Wes and David absorbed the song and the obviously powerful emotions behind it, exchanging wide-eyed glances. Then…_

_*Clap Clap. Clap. Clap.*_

"_Bravo, New Kid, bravo!"_

_They curly-haired boy's head jerked up; he looked like a deer caught in the headlights._

"_Hey," said David, "we didn't mean to scare you. This is Wes—he shot a glare at the over-enthusiastic Warbler—"and I'm David."_

_The younger boy said nothing. He had stood up, his back again the practice room wall, his posture defensive._

"_We heard you singing," said Wes unnecessarily. "Would you be interested in joining the Warblers, New Kid?"_

"_Don't call him 'New Kid', Wes," said David. He took another step forward. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."_

_The other boy clutched his guitar to his chest and glowered at them._

"_What do you want?"_

"_Want?" said David in surprise. "Nothing. Well, I think Wes would like to recruit you for the Warblers, that's the Dalton Academy Glee Club, we're both members."_

_The boy looked at them._

"_You want me to join Glee Club?"_

"_Yeah!" said Wes enthusiastically. "We've been looking for new members and David and I would get major points from the Council for bringing you in."_

"_You think just because I'm gay I want to join your stupid Glee Club?" said the boy aggressively._

"_Um, no…" said David. "We didn't even know you were gay. We just thought you might want to join because you're really good."_

"_Good at what?"_

"_Um, good at singing?" ventured David. "Isn't that what we're talking about?"_

"_I don't know, is it?"_

"_Who taught you to play?" asked Wes, gesturing toward the younger boy's guitar._

"_No one," he said. "I taught myself."_

_David whistled. "Singing too?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Well damn."_

"_If you're just going to make fun of me for singing—"_

"_What? No!" said Wes. "We think it's really great that you sing!"_

"_Look," said the curly-haired boy, "I'm trying _not_ to get my ass whooped at this school, so you'll excuse me if I don't want to join Glee Club."_

_Wes and David looked at each other in confusion._

"_Man, if you're in the Warblers people won't whoop your ass, they'll worship you," said Wes. "We're like rock stars."_

_The new boy seemed to find this prospect even more frightening than being beat up._

"_You know we have a no tolerance bullying policy here, right?" said David._

_The boy looked unconvinced._

"_Were you picked on at your old school?" asked Wes._

"_None of your damn business," snapped the boy._

"_You still haven't told us your name," said David._

"_Blaine," said the boy after a moment's pause._

"_Nice to meet you, Blaine," said Wes. "What song was that you were playing? I haven't heard it before."_

_"Nothing," he mumbled, "just something I made up."_

"_Just now?"_

"_Kind of. I know it's crap—"_

"_It's not crap at all," said Wes. "It's good. Very good actually."_

_Blaine skeptical, as though suspecting a trick. "Really?"_

"_Yeah. Most of the students in the Warblers are more polished than you, but you've got a kind of…raw emotion that is severely lacking at Dalton Academy. We could really use someone like you. So, what do you say, Blaine?"_

"_Um…I'll think about it," said Blaine._

"_Alright, well, we've got to get to rehearsal," said David. "We'll see you later, Blaine."_

_He and Wes gave the wary boy smiles that he did not return._

"_Yeah…later…"_

"That was the first time was really talked to Blaine," said David, shifting his seat on the bed. "We could tell that he still didn't trust us, but we were determined to get him into the Warblers, and we were willing to do whatever it took…

"_Hi, Blaine!"_

_The curly-haired boy jumped and whirled around, his fists raised._

"_Whoa!" said Wes, taking a hasty step back. "Jumpy little thing, aren't you?"_

_Blaine glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not lowering his fists._

"_What do you want?"_

"_We said we'd see you again," said Wes._

"_We wanted to know if you'd thought about our offer about joining the Warblers," said David._

"_No," said Blaine._

"_No, you haven't thought about it, or no, you won't join?"_

"_No, I don't want to join," said Blaine._

"_Why not?"_

"_None of your damn business."_

"_Come on, Blaine, you don't have to get defensive," said David. "We're just trying to be friendly."_

"_Well don't."_

_David laid a hand on Blaine's shoulder._

"_Blaine, I know transferring is hard, but Wes and I think you'd really benefit from—"_

"Don't touch me!"_ snarled the shorter boy, wrenching away from David's hand and shoving him violently. _"Leave me alone!"

_He fumbled with the lock to his dorm room, opened it, practically threw himself inside, and slammed the door in their faces._

"_Well," said Wes, looking quite taken aback. "That's something we're going to have to work on, isn't it?"_

"So yesterday wasn't the first time Blaine's gone off at someone like that?" asked Sean.

"Not by a long longshot," confirmed David. "He was a whole different animal when he got here; animal being a rather apt term."

"I can't imagine him as anything but friendly and collected," said Sean. "Well, except for yesterday."

"Yes, I'm sorry about that," said David. "I think this whole thing with Kurt is really getting to him; not just him being sick, though that is a big part of it right now, but all of it. Kurt has been incredibly good for Blaine but…he brings a lot of stuff back."

"What kind of stuff?"

"I'll get to that," said David, "but at this point we didn't know anything about it either," he looked at his watch. "Why don't we take a walk? It's a lovely day."

"And Blaine might want access to his dorm."

David smiled. "Yes, that too."

The two boys left the stuffy dorm room for the filtered sunshine of the grounds.

"So, you were telling me about yours and Wes's resolution to 'work on' Blaine."

"Yes," said David. "Not only had he impressed us with his musical abilities, now he had intrigued us with his persona, and as anyone who knows Wes can attest to, when he gets his mind set on something he's like a pit-bull; he doesn't let go…"

**AN: "Good Ol' Moon" is actually not my favorite of Darren's songs. Of course I love all of Darren's songs, but I don't love Good Ol' Moon as much as some of the others, this probably has a lot to do with the fact that I've heard a lot fewer times than most of the others, so it hasn't had sufficient time to grow on me. After writing this chapter I already like it a little better than I did before. I find that often the case when I sing a song in voice lessons or use a song for a story that I'd heard but that didn't really grab me before I sang/used it.**

**The method I am using to tell the story of Blaine's past, with the combination of narration and flashback, is inspired by the wonderful and amazing C.P. Coulter (if you have not yet read her fic **_**Dalton**_** you might want to fix that, like, right now). Yes, we will go farther back into what from Blaine's life at his old school caused him to be that way when he got to Dalton, but that will come as flashback Wes & David discover it, and later through present time Blaine himself. There will be three separate narration/flashback situations which will weave together to tell the story of Blaine and his transfer to Dalton. Two will be going on simultaneously, the third will come a bit later and fill in some gaps. I promise I haven't forgotten about Kurt and the fact that he's comatose in the hospital, or about his family either, but comatose people are rarely fun to write or read about, so bear with me as I diverge into Blaine's story for a little while.**

**Reviews, especially as I launch into this new stage of my story, are greatly encouraged and appreciated.**

**:)**

**-SQ**


	12. Chapter 12: Mentors

**Author's Note: Oops…kinda dropped the ball on the within 2 weeks thing. The road trip I went on to take her car down to her college set my writing back. At least this turned out to be a decently long chapter. I don't love it, but I don't hate it either. It continues the story of Blaine's beginnings at Dalton, this time with Wes and Blaine rather than David & Sean.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: There is a reason this is called **_**fan**_**fiction**

**Chapter Twelve: Mentors**

Wes did not wake Blaine up that morning; he didn't even try. David might call that being chicken, but Wes didn't care; he was perfectly content to wait around on his computer until Blaine began to stir on his own. (Besides, David wasn't there to tease him about it)

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said cheerfully, closing the laptop and turning around to face the junior.

"Morning," said Blaine, rubbing his curly head and reaching for his glasses.

"You hungry?" asked Wes. "I brought you a cinnamon roll and some orange juice."

"Thanks," said Blaine, standing up and wincing. "Ow…two nights in a row of sleeping on the floor does _not_ do wonders for the body."

Blaine sat down on the edge of David's bed and bit into the cinnamon roll. Once he had finished the breakfast Wes had brought him he went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. Upon coming out again he found Wes still facing him from the desk chair.

"Feel better?" asked the older Warbler.

"Yes, much," replied Blaine, sitting back down on David's bed and crossing his legs. "Thanks for taking care of me after my little…meltdown yesterday." He pushed a hand through his still damp hair. "God, what Sean must think…"

"David has it covered," said Wes. He paused. "Do you remember the first time David and I witnessed one of your episodes?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah. You and David had gone by to get information on me from my roommate."

"It sounds bad when you say it like _that_."

"Well it's true."

"He wasn't very helpful anyway," said Wes. "Said you kept mostly to yourself. So we left."

"_After_ poking around in my things," said Blaine.

"Only a little," Wes protested.

"When I got back and saw my stuff out of place I panicked.

"And when Alex told you he'd let other people into the room to look around you lost it."

_David was dangling upside-down off his bed, feeling around underneath it for his Biology textbook, while Wes waited impatiently by the door._

"_Come on, David, if you don't leave now we might as well stay here to do our homework."_

"_Got it," said David, holding his textbook triumphantly above his head._

"_Good," said Wes. "Now let's go."_

_Wes opened the dorm room door and started in the direction of the commons._

"_Wait," said Wes suddenly, putting out an arm to stop David. "What's that?"_

"_What's what?" asked David._

"_That noise."_

"_People making a commotion in the dorms, what else is new?" said David._

_Wes was still looking back up the hallway._

"_It sounds like somebody shouting."_

"_Again, what else is new?" said David. "Come on, you were in such a big hurry to go a minute ago."_

"_But it doesn't sound like _normal_ shouting," said Wes. "It sounds as though someone is shouting _at_ someone."_

"_Wes, it's really none of our business…"_

_Wes took no notice of this as he started up the hallway._

"Wes,"_ groaned David. "You're going the wrong way!"_

"_It sounds like it's coming from the new kid's room," said Wes._

"_His name's Blaine, Wes, and how could you possibly know whose—?"_

_But by this time the two of them had reached the end of the hall and there was no longer any doubt as to where the sound was coming from._

"_Those are my things, _mine_! I told you not to touch them, I _told_ you!" There was the sound of someone being punched. Wes and David looked at each other in alarm. "No one touches my things but me! Why did you let them in here? You had no right to let them touch my things! _I'm not just a freak show here for your amusement!_"_

_There was the sound of a fist connecting with someone's jaw and then of a person being slammed against an object. Wes and David exchanged another look and then rushed to the doorway of Blaine and Alex's room._

"Can we not talk about this?" said Blaine, twisting David's bedspread around his forefinger.

"We have to talk about it, Blaine," said Wes.

"We never did before."

"Exactly."

_The dark haired guitar player was standing over his roommate, who he had knocked down onto his bed, and was raining punches down on every inch of him he could reach. David, track runner and football player, reacted with only a split second's delay._

"_Call security!" he yelled at Wes, and grabbed Blaine by the elbows and wrenched him off Alex._

_As Wes whipped out his phone and dialed hastily, Blaine struggled wildly against David with a strength born of equal measures fear and fury; but the larger boy resolutely held him in place while his terrified roommate looked on._

"_Blaine, stop," said David. "Blaine, calm down! Blaine, cut it _out_! You're going to hurt somebody!"_

_By the time the two security officers arrived Blaine had exhausted himself. The insane fire had faded from his eyes and he hung limp in Wes's and David's arms, breathing heavily._

"_What happened?" demanded the officers._

"_He attacked me!" said Alex, pointing at Blaine. "The bastard attacked me!"_

_The officer took in the taller sophomore's black eye, split lip, and reddened cheek._

"_Is this true?" he asked Wes, David, and Blaine._

_Wes and David nodded. Blaine did nothing._

_The security officers escorted the four boys first to the nurse's office and then, once Alex was cleaned up, to see the Dean. David steered Blaine, who made no show of resistance but walked like a zombie through the halls, while Wes assisted a limping Alex. Curious students followed them with their eyes as they passed. Wes and David were sure that the story of what had happened—or people's speculations on the subject—would be all around the school by the following morning._

_The tense and silent group arrived at the Dean's office and were immediately admitted and told to sit and wait for the Dean._

"_Alright, who wants to tell me what happened?"_

_There was a pause, and then both Wes and Alex started talking at once._

"_One at a time," snapped the Dean. "Mr. Miller?"_

_Alex explained, with many wild gesticulations, how Blaine had attacked him in their dorm when he had found his things disturbed. Then Wes told the Dean what he and David had heard, seen, and done._

"_Mr. Anderson," said the Dean, turning his piercing gaze on Blaine. "What do you have to say?"_

_Blaine remained silent._

"_We have a no tolerance policy for violence at this school, Mr. Anderson," continued the Dean when he realized he wasn't going to get a response. "Going to school at Dalton Academy is a privilege, one we can revoke if we do not believe a student is upholding the image and values of our institution."_

"_Sir," said Wes "please don't expel him."_

_Four heads turned simultaneously in his direction._

"_Mr. Montgomery, can you give me a reason why I should not expel Mr. Anderson?"_

"_I don't think Blaine's a bad person," said Wes, looking directly at the Dean._

"_What you mean is you think he's a fabulous singer," said David._

_Wes shot him a 'you're not helping' look._

"_What happened today… From what I know of him Blaine's not _like_ that, not normally. Alex himself told us that he's usually really withdrawn and quiet. Don't you think there has to be something more going on, for someone to just go off like that? I know he transferred here from his old school a few weeks into the semester, I don't know why, but there has to be a reason. Where is he going to go if he's expelled from Dalton? Back there?"_

_The Dean looked at Wes over his glasses._

"_Alright then, Mr. Montgomery, you don't want me to expel Mr. Anderson. What _do_ you propose we do?"_

_David tried to signal to Wes to shut up, but, as was often the case, the Asian boy ignored his best friend._

"_David and I, we could be kind of…mentors for him. Look out for him, help him adjust to life at Dalton and make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble."_

_The Dean peaked his fingers, looking at Wes in consideration._

"_An interesting proposition… You think Mr. Anderson would benefit from this?"_

_David shook his head frantically, but the Dean still had his eyes on Wes._

"_Yes, sir," said the Asian._

_David let his face drop into his open palm._

"_Mr. Anderson," said the Dean, startling Blaine out of his contemplation of the carpet weave, "what do you have to say about this?"_

"_I don't want any stupid mentors."_

"_Then what do you want, Mr. Anderson?"_

"_I want to be left alone."_

"_Like you left me alone?" demanded Alex._

"_You went through my stuff."_

"_I barely touched it!"_

"_It's _mine_!"_

"_Enough!" said the Dean. "You have two choices, Mr. Anderson. Either you accept Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Thompson's offer of mentoring or I expel you for violence against another student."_

_Blaine glared._

"_What will it be, Mr. Anderson?"_

"_Whatever. I don't care."_

_The Dean looked from Blaine to Alex to David to Wes._

"_Against my better judgment, Mr. Anderson, I will not expel you. This time. But be forewarned, this is your one and only warning. We do not tolerate this kind of behavior at Dalton Academy." His expression softened slightly. "I hope to see an improvement in your experiences here at Dalton. You will move your things to the empty room across from Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Thompson's immediately."_

"David was absolutely furious with me for volunteering us to mentor you," said Wes. "As far as he was concerned I was always meddling in things that were none of my business, and I only got involved with you because I wanted to get in the Council's good books by bringing you to the Warbler's."

"I hated David for what he had done," said Blaine. "I hated both of you for interfering in my life, for invading the safe little bubble I had tried to build around myself."

"I know," said Wes. "You did your best to avoid us for the next week and a half."

"Which was extremely difficult when you were supposed to me mentoring me and lived across the hall," said Blaine. "You kept knocking on my door, offering to help me with my homework or asking me if I'd like to have lunch with you. I always told you no, but—"

"—we usually insisted," said Wes cheerfully.

"Some people can't take a hint," said Blaine, rolling his eyes at his friend.

Wes shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? He stood up. "Come on, it's way too nice of a day to be inside. We can stop by your dorm on our way out if you need anything."

"Sean—"

"Won't be there."

Blaine narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Why do I get the feeling that you and David are meddling again?"

Wes opened his eyes wide and affected a look of innocence. "Who, me?"

**AN: I hope you're enjoying finding out about Blaine instead of finding it exceedingly boring. I know that scene was really long. I will really try not to have a flashback scene that long again. I am also pretty sure I can get Kurt & into the next chapter (though he'll still be comatose, so he won't actually be doing anything), as well as other people besides Blaine, Wes, David, & Sean.**

**Your comments are much appreciated!**

**-SQ**


	13. Chapter 13: Taking Steps

**Author's Note: I **_**almost**_** got this up yesterday, but my cousin came over for dinner & so I didn't quite finish typing it up. But here it is now, I hope you enjoy.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Understand that I'm just a fan, I can't fight the man, so I'm playin' it safe and putting this disclaimer… ;)**

**Chapter Thirteen: Taking Steps**

David and Sean walked across the Dalton Academy Main Courtyard toward the network of smaller courtyards that ran along the side of the man building.

"Did you know Blaine at all before this year?" asked David.

"Not really, no," said Sean. "I'd been in classes with him, and seen him singing with the Warblers, but I'd never really talked to him or anything. He didn't seem to make himself very conspicuous last year."

"No, he didn't," agreed David. "He tried to make himself as _in_conspicuous as possible. Except when he was blowing up at someone. And he didn't appreciate Wes and my constant pestering. I _told_ Wes to leave the poor guy alone, but, in true Wes fashion, he completely ignored me, except to point out that we were now his 'mentors' and so duty-bound to check up on him.

"I did start to notice, though, that the more time we spent with him, the less nervous and defensive he seemed around us. He was still quiet and guarded, but he no longer raised his hackles whenever we walked into the room, and he actually even spoke on occasion. Mundane things, like 'Can I have another piece of paper?' or 'Do you know what the capitol of Tunisia is?" but it was something. It seemed that he had begun to, if not appreciate our presence, at least grudgingly accept the fact that we weren't going anywhere and we weren't there to hurt him. Did he trust us yet? No, but he was becoming more comfortable around us and we, in turn, around him.

"It had become a habit for the three of us to study together in Blaine's room in the evenings. Wes and I didn't touch anything, we knew better, and we tried not to seem too be looking at anything too closely, but I could tell that Wes was just dying to find something that would tell us more about this stubborn, mysterious boy.

"It was two weeks after the 'Roommate Incident' as we later came to call it, that we had our first breakthrough," said David with a smile, "and Wes wasn't even there."

"_David, you're going to have to study with Blaine by yourself today," said Wes as they walked back toward their dorm together after dinner. "I'm getting together with Danny to work on the huge Chemistry project we have due next week."_

"_Oh goody," said David sarcastically. "Because _I'm_ the one who volunteered us to be his personal nannies. I already have three little siblings, Wes, I don't need another"_

"_We're his friends," said Wes._

"_Are we?" said David. "That's news to me. Usually people _talk_ to their friends with more than 'could you pass that ruler?'."_

"_Give him time," said Wes. "We're so close to reaching him, I can _feel_ it."_

"_Sure, whatever," said David dubiously. "When does this mentor thing end anyway?"_

_Wes turned to face his friend. "Don't you care about him at _all_?"_

"_Of course I do," said David, sighing. "And I know he needs help, Wes. But I just don't see what we can do."_

"_Just study with him tonight," said Wes. "Please, David."_

"_Okay, okay, I wasn't planning on skipping out on it in the first place."_

_The two boys reached their room, grabbed their book bags, and separated toward their respective destinations._

_David crossed the hall to Blaine's door and knocked. "Blaine? It's David. Let me in." There was no answer. He knocked harder. "Blaine! Let me in. It's David. I'm here to study. Wes Can't come today, he's working on his partner project for chem, so it's just us." All was quiet inside the room. "Blaine?"_

"_He's not there," said another boy, poking his head out of his own room "He got in a fight with a classmate after dinner and ran off. I haven't seen him since."_

_David looked outside, where it was currently raining cats and dogs. "Shit."_

_*****AM*****_

_A fleece-lined raincoat hastily pulled over his blazer, David jogged through the rainy dark, calling his mentee's name._

"_Blaine! _Blaine!_ Where are you? I'm not mad at you for whatever you did; I just want to _find_ you! Come on, man, it's wet and cold out here!"_

_A figure rose from a bench beneath one of the school's many decorative arches._

"_Blaine!" David ran up to the dripping underclassman, unsure whether he was furious or relieved. "Are you out of you mind? It's _freezing_ out here." He gestured at the November rain lashing down around them. As if to emphasize his point a streak of lighting shot through the sky, followed by a boom of thunder._

_The younger boy, who wore no coat, was shivering, arms wrapped around himself, water streaming from sodden black curls._

"_Let's go inside and get you dried off and _then_ we'll talk," said David._

_Blaine allowed David to lead him inside and up to his dorm room, where the older boy unceremoniously deposited him on the toilet seat._

"_Take off your clothes."_

_Blaine didn't move. David went to remove his blazer for him. Blaine recoiled, lashing out at David._

"_Whoa!"" said David, catching Blaine's wrists. "Blaine, _listen to me_. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to help you. Look, you're shivering; you need to change out of those wet clothes before you get hypothermia." He placed a pair of pajamas on the bathroom floor at Blaine's feet and tossed a towel into his lap. "Dry off and change into those," he said, and then left the bathroom._

_Five minutes later Blaine was seated on his bed, dressed in his pajamas, knees pulled up to his chin._

"_I heard you got into another fight," said David. "Care to tell me what happened?"_

_Blaine stared at his hands._

"_You can either tell me or you can tell the Dean."_

_David was starting to think that he would have to take the younger boy to see the Dean when Blaine said, "He bumped into me and then grabbed my blazer. I punched him. He went down. His friend came at me. I punched him too. He was a lot bigger than me, but I managed to knock him into the wall and run." He rubbed his shoulder._

"_Are you hurt?" asked David, catching the gesture._

"_Just bruised. It's nothing."_

"_Why did you attack those boys?" asked David._

"They_ came after _me_."_

"_I hardly think they meant any harm—"_

"_They came _after _me!"_

_David pursed his lips and then sighed and sat down next to Blaine on the bed. "You've had a rough time, haven't you? Before you came here."_

_Almost imperceptibly, Blaine nodded._

"_You can't keep acting out like this," said David. "I don't know if you're doing it to get attention or to scare people away or what, but Wes and I can't keep saving you."_

"_I can look out for myself."_

"_So far your attempts to look out for yourself at Dalton have nearly gotten you expelled," said David. "And contrary to what you may believe, none of us want that to happen, especially Wes and I." he stood up, patting Blaine's shoulder. The younger boy flinched slightly, but did not push him away. "I think we'll forgo the studying tonight, it's getting late anyway. If you need anything, if you want to talk or you feel yourself losing control or you just don't want to be alone, Wes and are right across the hall, okay?"_

"_Okay," said Blaine noncommittally._

"_Hey, Blaine?" Blaine looked up toward the door. "Don't tell Wes I said this, but I think he was right about you; you're really not such a bad guy after all."_

_This comment was rewarded with the ghost of a smile._

*****AM*****

"Wes, do you really have to pull your phone out every second you're not actively doing something else?"

"I am actively doing something else," said Wes, eyes locked on his iPhone screen. "I'm walking. And I'm talking to you."

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"It's visiting hours at the hospital now," said Wes, looking up from the screen in his hand.

"Your point?"

"You should visit Kurt."

"He's unconscious, Wes, there's nothing I can do."

"But you still want to see him."

"So does his family.

"What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?"

"I have no reason to be there, Wes. I'm not family, I'm not his boyfriend—"

"You love him."

Blaine flinched and balled his hands into fists. "I _think_ I love him. And what does it matter?"

"It _matters_ because if it were the person I thought I was in love with lying in that hospital bed I'd want to spend every single second I could with them."

"And if I were Kurt's family I wouldn't want some random friend of his intruding," Blaine shot back. "Especially one who was too much of a _coward_ to admit how he felt before it was too late."

"You're not a coward, Blaine, and it's not too late."

"It _is_!" said Blaine in frustration. "He should know how I feel about him, I should _be_ there!"

"Then _go_," said Wes.

"I can't just show up…"

"Then call Finn. You have his number, right?"

"Yes, but—hey, what are you doing?" Wes had grabbed Blaine's phone out of his pocket. "Give that back!"

Wes evaded Blaine's grasping hands came and held the phone to his ear.

"_Hello?"_

"Hello, this is Wes, Kurt's friend from school. How is he doing?"

"_Uh…about the same,"_ said Finn's voice through the phone. _"My phone said it was Blaine calling."_

"I borrowed his phone," said Wes cheerfully, ignoring Blaine's splutter of protest, "He wants to know if it'd be okay for him to go and visit Kurt right now."

"_Uh, yeah, sure,"_ said Finn. _"I'm sure he'd really appreciate it, if you know, he could." _There was an audible swallow.

"Thanks, Finn," said Wes, his voice a touch gentler. "Blaine'll be there soon." He hung up the phone.

"_Wes,"_ groaned Blaine.

"I solved your problem for you, you should be thanking me!" said Wes. "Now Finn is expecting you at the hospital, so off you trot."

"Why am I friends with you?" questioned Blaine as Wes herded him toward the parking lot.

"We'll continue that conversation another time," said Wes.

"Do we have to?"

"Get in the car, Blaine."

**AN: Okay, so my intent was to get to the actual Blaine visits the hospital again' part in this chapter, but obviously that didn't happen. I promise it will be in the next chapter, and a large chunk of the next chapter will actually take place in current-time.**

**Reviews are muchly much appreciated but I don't have time to think of a clever way to not-quite-ask for them if I'm gonna get this up before I have to leave.**

**-SQ**


	14. Chapter 14: Visiting Hours

**Author's Note: Last update of any story before I move into my dorm! Luckily there is no hurricane here. There appears to be a rather lot of rain at the moment though…let's hope that clears up.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: There are so many reasons why I couldn't possibly own **_**Glee**_**…**

**Chapter Fourteen: Visiting Hours**

Blaine's palms were sweating by the time he arrived at the hospital reception area. He told himself that he had no reason to be nervous around Kurt's family, that they liked him, and Finn was expecting him, but he still felt like an intruder.

He walked up to the desk. The girl there was the same one as the last time. She was on the phone, relaying information to the person on the other end of the line with a bored expression on her face. She perked up, however, when she saw Blaine, and quickly finished the call.

"Good morning, what can I do for you?"

"My name is—"

"Blaine, yes, I remember," said the girl, whose name Blaine certainly could not remember. She smiled and wound a lock of reddish-brown hair around her index finger. "How may I help you today, Blaine?"

"I'm here to visit Kurt Hummel," said Blaine. "His step-brother, Finn Hudson, should be expecting me."

"Oh, yes," said the young woman, sounding slightly disappointed. "I'll let him know you're here." She pressed a button on the desk in front of her. "Finn Hudson to reception, please, a visitor has arrived for Kurt Hummel. Finn Hudson to reception, please."

"So, Blaine," said the receptionist, leaning toward him, "do you go to school around here?"

"Uh, yes," said Blaine, glancing in the direction of Kurt's room.

"Where?" inquired the girl, unwinding the lock of hair from around her finger and tucking it behind her ear. "Otterbien?" "Columbus?"

"Um, no," said Blaine. "Dalton Academy."

The receptionist's perfectly waxed eyebrows rose. "You're still in high school? But you look so mature!"

"Um, thank you?" said Blaine, unsure how to respond to that.

"I'm from Indiana," said the young woman, "but I'm studying pre-med at Otterbien. I'm in my sophomore year, but I'm still nineteen." She lowered her thick, brown eyelashes slightly and rested a purple manicured nail against her lower lip. "Do you have any idea what you'd like to study?"

"Um…"

"Blaine." Finn's hand clapped down on Blaine's shoulder, making him jump. "Hey, dude. Sorry I took so long, I was in the bathroom." The taller boy had dark circles under his eyes and his hair stood up every which way, but he smiled tightly down at Blaine.

"Hi, Finn," said Blaine. "I'm sorry to intrude like this. Wes stole my phone and—"

"No worries, dude, I'm glad you're here," said Finn, starting back in the direction he'd come from. "Burt and my mom don't trust me to stay with him by myself," he frowned in sadness and confusion. "But maybe they'll agree to take a break if you're there too. Burt's really showing the strain."

They stopped in front of Kurt's door and Finn let them in. "Mom, Burt, it's me and Blaine."

"Blaine, honey, how are you?" said Carole, rising and coming over to hug him.

"Um, I'm okay," said Blaine, caught slightly off-guard; he wasn't used to open displays of affection, except from Kurt of course.

"I know you must be busy with school," said Carole, "so we really appreciate you taking the time to come here and visit Kurt."

"Yeah…" Now Blaine felt guiltily for not coming sooner, even though Kurt had only been in the hospital for less than twenty-four hours.

"Mom, Burt," said Finn. "You two should really go take a walk, get some food and some rest, Blaine and I'll be fine here."

"I don't that that's a good idea," said Burt immediately.

"Well, I do," said Carole. "It won't be for very long, Burt, and Kurt has plenty of doctors and nurses to take care of him, as well as two boys who care about him very much."

"I need to be here for my son."

"You have been here for him, and you will be. But you won't do him any good by giving yourself another heart attack," said Carole sternly. "Come on."

Reluctantly, Burt levered himself out of his chair beside his son's bed and followed Carole out of the room, leaving the three boys, two conscious, one unconscious, alone.

Blaine stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before sitting down in the chair Kurt's father had just vacated. His heart clenched painfully as he looked down at the still, pale form of the boy he had fallen for. A thick white bandage was wrapped around his head, a ventilator tube stuck down his nose, and an IV in his arm. Gingerly, Blaine brushed the backs of his fingers against Kurt's cheek; it was burning hot.

_This is all my fault_, he thought miserably, tears pricking his eyes. Then, _I wish I knew if you liked me too, Kurt._

"What?"

Blaine looked up at Finn, who was looking back at him with a puzzled expression. Had he just said that out loud?

"Did you just say what I think you said?"

"I don't know," said Blaine cautiously. "What do you think I said?"

"Did you just say that you like Kurt? Like, as more than friends?"

Well, there was no use denying it. "Yes, I do," said Blaine. "Very much so."

Finn blinked. "Well, you have kind of crappy timing, dude, but that's perfect!"

It was Blaine's turn to look puzzled. "Why is it perfect?"

"Um, because, dude, Kurt's totally been crushing on you since the day he met you," said Finn, as though it should be obvious. "He's, like, in love with you."

Blaine's heart skipped beat. He felt a little shell-shocked. Sure, he had sometimes wondered whether his newest best friend had more-than-friendly feeling for him, but he had dismissed it as Kurt's usual affectionate personality. He was Kurt's friend and mentor; true, there had been that whole thing on Valentine's Day, but Blaine had written it off as more of him being misleading than Kurt actually wanting something more from him.

"Are you sure?"

"Unless Kurt has been lying to us all this time," said Finn.

"Us?"

"Me, my mom, Mr. Shue, the entire McKinley glee club…"

Wow. Idiot did not even begin to cover how Blaine felt right now.

"Dude? Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You're crying."

Blaine realized that he was. "Oh…"

"The doctors said he's gonna be okay," said Finn.

Blaine nodded, tears still falling down his cheeks, his thumb drawing circles on Kurt's palm. "You must think I'm a baby."

"Nah," said Finn. "I live with Kurt, remember? I'm getting used to seeing dudes cry." He pulled up a second chair next to Blaine's. "You gonna be okay, dude?"

Blaine nodded again. "Yeah. Sorry. I know this is really hard for you too. He's your brother…"

"Yeah, I kind of already had my totally flipping out moment earlier."

Blaine smiled. "Yeah, so did I."

"Um, Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"Can I tell the rest of New Directions? That you like Kurt back, I mean. They'll be really stoked."

"Um, sure, okay," said Blaine somewhat hesitantly. "But let me tell Kurt."

"Of course," said Finn.

The two boys lapsed into silence, each holding one of Kurt's hands. Occasionally one of them would say something, and the other would respond, then they'd go back to sitting quietly. After a while Finn turned on the RV and they sat watching football and bad commercials, cheering mutedly for the team they both supported, groaning quietly when the other teams scored. At one point Carole and Burt stuck their heads in the room and saw the two boys, both still holding Kurt's hands, both still with their eyes fixed on the TV screen. Carole smiled slightly and put a finger to her lips, drawing her husband away from the door and closing it with a faint _click_ that went unheard by the occupants of the room.

The next person to enter was a nurse. "Visiting hours for non-family members are over," she said.

Blaine looked over at her, blinking in the absence of the TV glare. "Oh, alright, thanks." He stood, stretching out cramped limbs.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" asked Finn, rising with him.

"Uh, I don't know," said Blaine. "Should I be?"

"Yeah, dude, you should," said Finn. "Some of New Directions is gonna try to come if the hospital'll let them. You should come too."

"Alright," said Blaine. He gave Kurt's hand a last gentle squeeze, pressed his fingertips to his lips and then to Kurt's forehead, and then crossed to the door, reaching it at the same time that Burt and Carole arrived on the other side. "Thanks, Finn."

"No problem, Dude. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Blaine left the room and walked back through the lobby, his thoughts still on Kurt, and what Finn had said. He was nearly to the door when he realized someone was calling his name.

"Blaine! Blaine!"

The young receptionist was standing behind him, a breathless smile on her face, a sheet of notebook paper in her manicured hand.

"Hey, sorry," she said, sweeping her red-brown hair out of her face. "I just wanted to catch you before you left." She held out the sheet of paper. "In case you want to get a coffee or something some time."

Blaine stared at the sheet blankly.

"It's my number," said the girl.

"Oh," said Blaine. He took the paper and pocketed it. "Okay."

"It was nice talking to you today, Blaine," she said.

"Um, you too…"

"Shelby," said the young woman, beaming at him.

"Bye, Shelby" said Blaine, "thanks for your help."

"My pleasure," said Shelby. "See you later. Take care, Blaine!"

"Take care," responded Blaine, feeling slightly confused. "See you later." He left the hospital and walked through the parking lot to his car, wondering how much gloating he was going to have to endure on Wes's part when he got back to Dalton.

**AN: So? Finn knows Blaine likes Kurt (okay, so he loves him, but he hasn't admitted that to Finn yet) and some ND members are gonna be in the next chapter. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed (& will review) this one!**

**-SQ**


	15. Chapter 15: The First Night

**Author's Note: Merlin, my updates are moving slowly, aren't they? I don't have as much time to longhand, so I don't always have the draft completed by the time I've posted the chapter that comes before it. Ah well, here is chapter fifteen.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: If I claimed **_**Glee**_** I would be lying**

**Chapter Fifteen: The First Night**

"Soooooo?" said Wes as soon as Blaine opened the door of his and David's room (where Blaine was pretty sure he was staying indefinitely at this point). "How'd it go?"

"It was fine," mumbled Blaine.

"Fine?" said Wes. "_Fine?_ Come on, Blaine, you've got to give me more than that!"

Blaine bit his lip and then a silly grin spread across his face. "He likes me back, Wes. He liked me back."

"He's awake?" demanded Wes.

Blaine's face fell. "No... But Finn told me…he said Kurt's been, um, crushing on me since the first time we met."

"Is this supposed to be news?"

"You _knew_?"

"Me and every other guy on this campus except for you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Um, de _did_."

"Oh, right." Blaine sat down on the edge of Wes's bed, kicking his heels against the sides. "God, this is confusing."

Wes smiled and sat down next to him. "Did you expect it to be straightforward?" he asked teasingly, punching Blaine in the shoulder.

Blaine buried his head in his hands. "No…I just…"

Wes wrapped an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

"If he wakes up—"

"_When_ he wakes up, he is going to be over the moon to find out that you've finally clued into your feelings for him."

"That's what Finn said."

"Smart guy." Wes leaned back on his bed, making himself comfortable against the pillows. "Do you remember the first night you ever spent in here?"

"Technically it wasn't in here," said Blaine, pushing Wes's feet off his lap. "Your room was at the other end of the hall then."

We waved his hand. "Details, details. Do you remember it?"

"Of course I do," said Blaine. "I don't have that bad of a memory, Wes."

"Debatable," said Wes, "but irrelevant.

"It was a few nights after your and David's little storm fiasco. The three of us had kept studying like usual and none of us had really brought it up since then.

"It was way too late at night for any respectable person with school the next morning to still be up, so of course David and I were sitting in our beds with our laptops."

"_Wes, did someone just knock on our door?"_

"_Who would be knocking on our door at twelve-thirty at night?"_

"_How should I know? But someone was definitely knocking on our door."_

"_Well, if someone is knocking on our door, maybe you should answer it, David."_

"_You're closer," said David, eyes returning to his laptop._

"_But you're the one who heard the knocking on the door."_

_David rolled his eyes and pushed his blankets and laptop off his legs, padding over to the door. He squinted through the peephole. "It's Blaine."_

_Wes's eyebrows shot up. "Blaine? Really?"_

"_Uh-huh."_

"_Well, let him in."_

_It was immediately obvious that the younger boy had been crying. It was also obvious that he really didn't want anyone to see him but them, and was fairly unsure even on that front._

"_Blaine, man, what's wrong?" said David, pulling the distraught-looking boy into the room and shutting the door behind him._

_Blaine said nothing; his lips were pressed so tightly together that they were almost white. He allowed David to sit him down on his bed._

"_Blaine?" said David again—he and Wes both leaning over the smaller boy worriedly—"Are you okay? Are you sick?"_

_Wes felt Blaine's forehead. "He doesn't seem to have a fever…" He squatted down so he was at eye level with the boy on the bed. "Blaine, you're worrying us. Do you feel sick?"_

_Blaine shook his head._

"_Can you tell us what's wrong?"_

_Blaine shook his head again, fresh tears dripping from his spiky eyelashes._

"_Shhh," said Wes and David at the same time._

"_Don't cry," said Wes. "You're here now, with us."_

"_Hold on," said David. "Blaine," he said seriously, "did you hurt anyone?" Blaine hesitated and then shook his head. "Are you sure?" A nod. "Did you harm anything important?" Another shake, quicker this time. "Did you do anything that would put anyone in danger or get any of us into serious trouble?" Again Blaine shook his head. David sighed in relief. "All right."_

"_Are you done grilling the poor kid?" said Wes with a glare._

"_I had to make sure we weren't getting in way over our heads here," said David. "You understand that, don't you, Blaine?"_

_The curly-headed boy nodded._

_Wes wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Blaine flinched slightly but did not pull away. "Hey, you're getting better. I get the sense that you don't get hugged very often, do you?" Blaine shook his head. "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we David?"_

_David rolled his eyes but wrapped an arm around Blaine's shoulders as well. "Wes may be absolutely bat-shit crazy," he said, "but you're in good hands with him."_

"_Look!" said Wes excitedly. "He's smiling!"_

_The upturn at the corners of Blaine's mouth faded immediately, but it had definitely been there._

_Wes looked at the clock. "Is it one in the morning already? All three of us have class tomorrow, and I don't know about you two, but I'd like to get more than four hours of sleep. Both juniors looked at the sophomore and then back at each other._

"_Blaine," said David, "would you like to stay the night with us?"_

"_Um…" said Blaine._

"_Honestly," said Wes, "I don't think you should be alone right now, but it's not up to me. Would you like to stay? You're more than welcome to."_

_Blaine nodded._

_David took the extra blankets off the feet of their beds and laid them on the floor between them "Wes, toss me those extra pillows." Wes obliged, and David added them to the blankets. Then he and Wes climbed into their own beds._

"_Good night, Blaine."_

Blaine stared up at the ceiling, tracing the swirls in the paint with his eyes. "That night, when you and David let me in, no pressure, no questions asked—well, hardly any questions asked—and the next morning, when I woke up and nothing had happened, you hadn't changed your minds, that's when I really started considering you guys my friends."

"It wasn't until quite a bit later that we found out why you were so upset that night," said Wes.

"It was stupid," said Blaine.

"It wasn't stupid," said Wes.

"It was a bad dream."

"It was a flashback," said Wes firmly. "Your encounter with that group of boys in the hall triggered a delayed flashback reaction. You were scared, and scared of losing control. You did the right thing in coming to us. You can always come to us."

"I know," said Blaine. "Thanks."

Wes laughed. "That's what you said that first morning after spending the night with us."

Blaine smiled. "I suppose it is, isn't it?"

Wes flipped over and pulled his messenger bag out from under the bed. "Sorry to kill the nostalgia, but I have an essay due Monday and I have yet to write a single line."

Blaine groaned. "Don't even talk to me about homework, you second semester senior."

Wes grinned. "Hey, those who survive the suffering then deserve the reward. You'll be a senior next year."

"If _I_ survive my junior year," grumbled Blaine, pulling out his own homework. "These teachers are all sadists."

*****AM*****

"So what exactly happened with the group of guys in the hall?" asked Sean as he followed David back up to the dorm, hands shoved into his jean pockets. "I mean, if you know and you don't mind me asking."

"No, please," said David, "ask questions. The guys in the hall had just been being normal teenage guys, playing around, rough-housing. Blaine got caught up in it making his way back to his room; surrounded by a bunch of rowdy guys a whole lot bigger than him, ended up getting knocked down… He was already having a bad day—well, all of Blaine's early days at Dalton were bad—but he was struggling in his classes and the guys in the hall just kind of made him snap. Panic attack. He used to have a lot of those."

The boys had reached Sean and Blaine's room by this time.

"What I don't understand is if all this happened just last year why nobody seems to know about it." said Sean. "Blaine is one of the most popular guys in school."

"He is _now_," said David. "What you have to understand about Blaine is that he didn't want to be noticed. And, by and large, he succeeded. You yourself said you didn't really know him until this year. The story of how Blaine became, well, Blaine necessitates focus on his episodes, on the things that got him noticed, but even those only caught the attention of a small number of people. How many people are going to notice a lone introvert in a sea of extroverts? Unless he snaps and tries to punch you of course. Blaine worked very hard to be just another face in the crowd; he got average grades, didn't raise his hand in class, didn't talk to his classmates unless directly forced to… It was lucky chance that Wes and I were where we were when we were, or Blaine probably would have been out of this school before anyone knew he had been here. It wasn't until he joined the Warblers that he started to come out of his shell to anyone but the two of us.

"And just how did you convince him to join the Warblers?"

David looked at his watch. "That, my friend, is a story for another day. I have homework to do and, judging from the pile of books on your desk and the fact that you're a second semester junior, I'm betting you do too."

"Shit!" said Sean, also looking at the stack of textbooks and papers on his desk. "I totally forgot about that!"

David laughed. "I'll be sure to tell Blaine that you found him so enthralling that you forgot about your mountainous amount of homework."

Sean snorted. "Because the guy doesn't get enough boosts to his ego." He sat down at his desk and pulled his biology textbook toward him. "Bye, David. See you tomorrow?"

"You can count on it," said David. "Have fun doing your homework!"

Sean glared at him and David, used to that look from both Blaine and Kurt, beat a hasty retreat.

**AN: I know it seems like Kurt's been unconscious forever, but it's actually only been a little over 24 hours, it's just that most of the action and time progression is taking place during the flashbacks right now. I hope you're still enjoying, and that you will review :)**

**-SQ**


	16. Chapter 16: Need Some Cheering Up

**Author's Note: I know I make you wait, and I'm sorry :( But I swear I update as often as I can. This is a fairly long chapter though, if that helps :)**

**I must also say that, recent continuity issues aside, this fic is operating under the assumption (a perfectly logical assumption in accordance with all the evidence from Season 2) that Blaine is in the **_**same grade**_** as Kurt and is a few months **_**older**_** than him.**

**Oh, and there is also 1 F-bomb in this chapter. As you can see it is still at K+. Later when I decide just how I'm going to go into what happened to Blaine at his old school it may go up to T.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I claim not to claim that I can claim **_**Glee**_

**Chapter Sixteen: Need Some Cheering Up**

Blaine was woken by his alarm clock at eight-forty-five the next morning.

"_Blaine,"_ groaned Wes, pulling his pillow over his head, "shut that thing off…it's too early in the morning…"

"Sorry," said Blaine, switching off the blaring alarm. "Visiting hours start at ten."

"Which is in more than an hour!" said Wes before burrowing deeper under his pillow.

"I need time to get ready!" Blaine protested.

David looked up at Blaine, who was holding up two different shirts and frowning at them. "Blaine, come on, man, I know you love the guy, but you're not going on a date. He won't even _see_ you."

Blaine made a face and chose the right-hand shirt. "I know, I know." He pulled on a pair of corduroy pants and set to work on his hair. Wes and David rolled over and went back to sleep.

The dining hall was still relatively uncrowded at nine-thirty on a Sunday morning. Blaine took a stack of apple pancakes, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of milk, ate them quickly, and then left the dining hall for the parking lot, fending off the people who tried to talk to him along the way.

By the time Blaine arrived at the hospital his palms were sweating so badly that they were sliding around on the steering wheel.

_Pull yourself together,_ Blaine told himself sternly. _These are Kurt's friends, you _know_ them. You like them, _they_ like _you_. Yes,_ said a second voice in Blaine's head. _But what are they going to think of you now?_

Blaine looked at his watch. It read 10:06. The New Directions weren't going to think any better of him for being late.

Blaine was looking at the floor was he entered the hospital's main lobby, so he didn't see the members of New Directions until they had surrounded him.

"Blaine, hi, how are you?"

Blaine jumped and looked up into Mercedes's face. "Uh…I'm okay."

Blaine was once more surprised as Mercedes wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "No you're not."

Blaine bit his lip. "Did Finn tell you…?"

"Yes, and we think it's wonderful!" said Rachel, beaming at him. "Realizing you're in love with him when his life is in danger. It's so romantic!"

"I never said I—"

Quinn glared at Rachel. "It's not something to joke about. We're here to see Kurt, not obsess over his boyfriend."

"Kurt has a boyfriend?" asked Brittany. "Who?"

"Who's the only other gay guy around here?" said Santana.

"I'm not—" started Blaine.

"Oh, but you will be," said Tina, smiling and looking up at Mike.

"Are we going to see Kurt?" asked Artie.

"Are we all going to fit?" asked Sam.

"Not if it's like any hospital room I've ever seen," said Lauren.

"No," said Finn. "We'll have to go in a few at a time. And be _careful_."

"Relax, dude," said Puck. "What're we gonna do to him? He's _asleep_."

Sam, Artie, Santana, and Brittany when in first. They only stayed a few minutes before they returned and Quinn, Puck, Lauren, Mike, and Tina took their place. Blaine couldn't blame them for not staying very long; as Puck had said, Kurt was asleep. Not that that stopped Blaine from wanting to see him. Nor did it seem to be stopping Finn, Mercedes, or Rachel. It did not escape Blaine's notice that the group he was going in with consisted of Kurt's stepbrother and his closest friend. He wasn't quite sure how Rachel had gotten in there, but her relationship with Kurt had never been something Blaine had completely understood.

Kurt looked the same as he had the day before. Blaine and Finn instinctively stood back to let the girls see Kurt first.

Mercedes sucked in her breath and touched Kurt's hair gently. "Boo…"

Rachel looked like she was about to cry. "Oh, Kurt…"

Blaine felt awful. What was he doing here? Kurt wasn't his; he was theirs and always would be. Blaine had been fooling himself to ever think otherwise.

He felt Finn's hand on his shoulder. "You okay, dude?"

"I don't belong here," he muttered.

He must have said it louder than he had intended, or else the room was so unnaturally quiet that even a whisper traveled, because Mercedes and Rachel both turned to him.

"Of course you do!" said Mercedes, hand on her hip.

"Blaine, it's no coincidence that you're here with the three of us," said Rachel. "Kurt's best friends are in this room right now, and that includes you."

Blaine blinked, his vision suddenly hazy. "Thanks."

Rachel and Mercedes took him by the hands and drew him toward the bed, Finn following behind.

"You're obviously very special to Kurt," said Mercedes. "And I can see why, you're a great guy! And you care about him, a lot. Let us be your friends, Blaine. We _want_ to be your friends."

"And we want to see the look on Kurt's face when you tell him you like him back," added Rachel.

Blaine had to smile. These members of New Directions were so positive, so energetic. Yes, he wanted them to be his friends, how could he not?

He knelt beside Kurt's bed and clasped the unconscious boy's hand. The others knelt beside him, silently sharing their love for Kurt and each other for a few minutes.

Rachel was the first to stand. "This is too depressing. We should do something."

"But—" started Blaine.

"But—" said Finn.

"Rachel's right," said Mercedes. "We can't do anything here but get sadder and sadder. Kurt is going to be _fine_. He hasn't even been here for two days. He is going to wake up any time now and chew us all out for letting his hair get into that state. In the meantime, _we_ are going to out to lunch. _All_ of us," she added meaningfully, looking right at Blaine.

"My friends…"

"Invite them too," said Rachel. "The more the merrier.

Blaine looked at Finn. The larger boy looked like he wanted to go about as much as Blaine did, but the girls didn't seem to be giving them much of a choice.

Blaine bent over Kurt and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back later, Kurt, I promise. _Please_ get better." He straightened up and allowed Mercedes to lead him away.

Rachel took Finn's arm and they followed Mercedes and Blaine out of the room, Finn squeezing Kurt's hand and patting his shoulder as he passed by the bed.

Quinn's eyes narrowed as Finn and Rachel exited the room arm in arm, but before she or anyone else could make comment, the shorter girl announced, "We are going out to lunch."

The rest of the group looked at her in confusion.

"Cool!" said Brittany. "Can we get Mexican?"

"Um, why?" said Santana.

"Because I love Mexican," said Brittany. "You know that."

"No," said Santana, "why are we going out to lunch in the first place?"

"Because it's lunchtime," said Rachel. "And we need some cheering up."

"I can agree with that," said Mike.

"Yes, with _my_ idea," Mercedes muttered to Blaine.

"All right, it's settled them," said Rachel, clapping her hands.

The rest of the group looked unenthusiastic.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," said Quinn, "but Rachel is right. We're all worried about Kurt, but what else can we do?"

"They have a point," said Artie.

"And I think I might go crazy if I have to spend another minute in this hospital," said Tina.

Puck nodded. "It reminds me of Juvie."

"So where are we going?" asked Lauren.

"Mexican sounds good," said Sam. "There's a really good place not too far from here."

There were nods all around.

"Mexican it is, then!" said Rachel.

"Blaine?" said Mercedes as they followed the rest of New Directions out of the hospital. "You okay?"

"Yeah…"

"You'll feel better with some food in you," said Mercedes. "Call your friends and tell them to meet us at the restaurant."

*****AM*****

Sean opened the door to his room after breakfast on Sunday morning and nearly dropped his coffee cup on the floor.

"I would have let you in as soon as I got back, you know."

David smiled blandly. "Why make you go through the trouble when I have a key?"

Sean rolled his eyes and sat down at his desk. He took a sip of coffee and then said, "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in class on a Sunday?"

"I hardly think most of your teachers make house calls," said David. "Well, dorm calls. In all seriousness, though, this isn't supposed to feel like an obligation. You're free to stop me and walk away at any time."

"No," said Sean, shaking his head. "I want to know. I want to understand what went on with Blaine last year. And I want to hear the end of the story."

"It is an interesting one, isn't it?" said David. He eyesdSean's coffee cup. "Did you bring me any?"

"I might have," said Sean, "if I had known you would be here."

"Touché. Now, where were we?"

"Blaine had just spent the night in your and Wes's room for the first time."

"Ah, yes. Well, that was a major turning point for Blaine. I'm not saying that he was Mr. Perfect after that, but he started wanting to be helped, and that made Wes and my job a lot easier."

"_Okay, Blaine, put the textbook down. No, put it __**down**__." David took the book from Blaine's reluctant hands and laid it down on the desk. "Alright, what's wrong? You've been focusing on that book so hard I'm surprised you haven't burnt a hole through it. The Civil War can't be __**that**__ interesting."_

"_I have a test," said Blaine, attempting to snatch the book back. "I need to study."_

_David put his hand over the book. "Blaine…"_

"_Come on, man," said Wes. "We're your friends, right?"_

"_Yeah, of course…"_

"_So tell us what's bothering you!"_

_Blaine looked between the faces of his two friends. "It happened again," he mumbled finally._

"_What happened again?" asked Wes, though David already had a pretty good idea of the answer._

"_I lost control."_

_Wes and David swept the rest of the homework off the table and gave Blaine their undivided attention._

"_Tell us what happened, Blaine."_

_Blaine stared at the table. "There were some guys…outside my French class…I think they were seniors. They…they might not have known I was there…I don't know…but they were saying things…making jokes…"_

"_Gay jokes?" said David quietly._

_Blaine nodded, his fists clenched against the desk. "Maybe they were just…messing around, or whatever, but it made me so __**mad**__! I came here to be safe, but I'm still always afraid! I had being afraid!" Blaine slammed his fist down in the table; his whole body was shaking._

"_Blaine, Blaine, hey, relax, getting mad at us isn't going to do any good."_

_Blaine took a shuddering breath. "Sorry, I…" a tear splashed onto the desk in front of him._

"_Shhh," said Wes. He laid a hand on Blaine's back._

"_Tell us what happened," said David._

"_It made me mad, what they were saying—"_

"_Mad?" said David. "Or scared?"_

_Blaine paused. "I was mad…but I was mad because I was scared."_

"_Did they make any threats?" asked Wes. "Because you know we have a zero tolerance policy here at Dalton._

_Blaine shook his head. "They were just jokes. I've heard worse. But the people who made those kinds of jokes at my old school…"_

"_What did you do?" asked David._

"_I had to go past them, to get to my last class. I started to run—they saw me, called out to me. One of them stepped in front of me. So I knocked him down. I don't know—I don't really know what happened after that…" He buried his face in his hands. "I don't belong here. I belong in a mental hospital."_

"_No." David grasped Blaine by the shoulders. "No. Blaine, you're not crazy. You're hurting, you're…"_

"_Fucked up," said Blaine._

"_**Damaged,"**__ said Wes. "But David's right, you're not crazy. And you're not at Dalton just to get away from your old school. You're here to heal from it."_

_Blaine sniffled. "I'm such a baby."_

"_You're not," said David._

"_If I wasn't gay—"_

"_If you weren't gay nothing," said Wes. "This has nothing to do with your sexuality. If some stupid bigots have a problem with it it's __**their**__ problem."_

_Blaine stared down at the desk. "I don't want to be like this."_

"'_Like this' gay, or 'like this' not in control?" asked David._

"_Not in control," said Blaine, "though I don't particularly like being gay either."_

"_You don't like how people __**treat **__you because you're gay," said David. "And you don't have to not be in control if you don't want to be. The fact is, you're __**not **__like this, not usually. Tell me, you don't always go off on people when you're upset, so what do you do the other times?"_

"_Um…"_

"_Come on, there has to be something," said Wes._

"_Well, yes, there is…but don't laugh…" the two juniors looked at him expectantly. "I…sometimes I write music…songs."_

_There was a split-second's paused, then…_

"_That's fantastic!" said Wes._

"_I rememberyou were playing a song you wrote the first time we met you," said David._

"_You should write a song about this!" said Wes._

"_Right now?" Blaine almost yelped._

"_Why not?" said David. "You can at least start it now. It's a better solution that beating the crap out of people."_

"_I can't…I can't write a song with you guys in here…"_

"_We'll leave you to it, then," said Wes, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder._

_Blaine looked pleadingly at David._

"_Don't rush it," said the black boy. "But when it's done we'd love to hear it."_

"_We have faith in you, Blaine," said Wes._

"_You really are a good musician," said David._

"He is," agreed Sean. "We don't really have the same taste in music, but he's really good at what he does. I think he could really…David?" The black boy was staring off into space. "Earth to David, do you read me?"

"Blaine should write a song."

"I think we just established that he does," said Sean.

"No. Now. He should write a song about Kurt. I should tell him the next time I talk to him—" David's phone rang. "Speak of the devil. Hello, Blaine, what's up? … Oh, really? … That sounds great! Where? … Oh, yes, I know where that is. … We'll see you soon. Oh, by the way, Sean's coming too, bye!" He hung up the phone. "Grab your stuff; we're going out to lunch with Blaine and the New Directions."

**AN: As Mercedes and I have pointed out, it really hasn't been as long as it seems since Kurt collapses and was admitted to the hospital. I have to keep reminding myself that too, lol. But really, it won't be too much longer before plot moves forward in the present & not just the past, I promise. I contemplated cutting this into 2 chapters, but we really don't need it to take any longer than it already is to get to Kurt waking up.**

**If I had 1 review for this story, or any other of my Glee (& HP) stories, for every 3 I get for my Artemis Fowl Fic I would be very happy.**

**-SQ**


	17. Chapter 17: Jumper

**Author's Note: This chapter has a song in it, and a lot of dialogue, so it's not quite as long as it appears, but it's still one of my longer chapters for this fic. It has a good portion of flashback too, and Blaine & Sean talking for the first time since Blaine went ballistic on Sean. I hope you enjoy it :)**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Glee is on hiatus, I am not, proof that I don't own Glee (as if you needed any)**

**Chapter Seventeen: Jumper**

"Why am I here again?" Sean asked as he David, and Wes pushed through the doors of the restaurant.

"Because we were invited," said Wes. "We're here to meet our friends. Blaine Anderson…"

"Right over here," said the waiter.

"_You_ were invited," said Sean. "I don't even know these people."

"You know Blaine," said David.

"I don't know any of the McKinley kids."

"Neither do we, really," said Wes shrugging.

"At least you've _met_ them."

"And you will have too in a moment. Blaine, hi, I hope we're not late."

"Hello Wes, David, Sean, no, we just got here, sit down." Blaine met Sean's eyes and then looked away awkwardly. "David, Wes, Sean, these are the New Directions. New Directions, these are David, Wes, and Sean."

The two groups exchanged greetings and then ordered their lunches.

"Sean, is it?" said Rachel as the waiter took their menus. Sean nodded. "You're not a Warbler."

"Um, no, I'm not," said Sean. "I'm Blaine's roommate."

"Oh?" said Rachel with interest. "What's it like living with Blaine? What's he's like when he's at school?" With Kurt?"

"Um…"

Luckily the food arrived then and saved Sean from having to give her an answer.

"So, Blaine," said David once everyone had their food. "Sean and I were talking. How long has it been since you wrote a song?"

The New Directions members looked up with interest.

"You write songs?" said Sam.

"Well, yes, sometimes," said Blaine.

"I didn't know that," said Finn. "That's really cool, dude."

"Yeah, that's dope," said Puck.

"It's not—"

"It really is," interrupted Wes. "He's written some good stuff."

"We'd love to hear some of it," said Mercedes.

"I don't have my guitar with me right now…"

"Well, not right now, obviously," said Artie. "But sometime."

"That sounds like a great idea," said David. "In fact, Sean and I were just thinking that it would be a good idea for Blaine to start a new song, you know, about everything that's going on right now."

"I can't just write a song because you think I should," protested Blaine.

"It's just something to think about," said David.

The group finished their meals, paid the bill, and then rose to leave.

"Thank you for inviting us out the lunch with you guys," said Blaine, hugging Mercedes and Rachel in turn.

"Any time," said Mercedes. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I'll try not to."

Wes's car was parked right next to Blaine's, something Blaine was sure had not been done accidentally, so the three Dalton boys walked through the parking lot together.

"Sean," said Blaine after a minute of uncomfortable silence. "About Friday—"

"It's cool," said Sean. "David has been…explaining things."

Blaine rubbed his eyes. "I figured as much. And now you must think I'm some sort of freak—"

"No," said Sean. "I think you went through some really though things…"

"Did he say—?"

"We haven't gotten to that part yet," said David.

Blaine leaned back against his car. "Sean, I'm really sorry for how I blew up at you the other day. Did I hurt you?"

"Not really," said Sean. "More scared me than anything. But like I said, it's—"

"It's not cool," said Blaine. "It's not cool at all that I attacked you like that."

"You were upset."

"I was out of control. Sean, I know it's not your fault Kurt's in the hospital. You couldn't have possibly known when he left that morning that something like that would happen, none of us could. He just—he means _so__much_ to me…"

"Finally figured it out, have you?" said Sean with a small smirk.

"Yeah…"

The taller boy came to lean against the car beside Blaine. "I'm still having a bit of trouble equating the guy from David's stories with the Blaine Anderson I've been rooming with for six and a half months, though admittedly your little episode in our room makes it a bit easier. You've been the Warblers' lead soloist for as long as I've really known you, when exactly did you join the group?

"You can blame those two over there," said Blaine, jerking his thumb at Wes and David, who were leaning against Wes's car.

_Blaine, who was sitting on his bed, pouring over his handwritten sheet music, jumped as his door burst open and Wes and David came bounding in._

_Blaine sighed at the jagged line his skidding pen had made across the staff. "Hello, guys."_

"_Hello, Blaine," said David cheerfully. "How are you?"_

"_I'm okay," said Blaine, setting his music aside. "You?"_

"_We're good," said David._

"_Hey, Blaine," said Wes, taking a seat on Blaine's chair, "do you trust us?"_

_Blaine paused in the act of organizing his songwriting materials. "That is not a question that inspires a lot of confidence."_

"Hey," said Sean, "you're starting to sound more like, well, you."

Blaine chuckled. "I hope that's a compliment."

_Wes ignored Blaine's comment. "We want you to join the Warblers."_

_There was a short pause, and then, "No, no, no, no, no," said Blaine. "We've been over this."_

"_Yes, but—"_

"_No."_

"_Blaine, you're really good—"_

"_No."_

"_It's actually super fun—"_

"_No."_

"_And I think it would be really good for—"_

"_**No."**_

"_Blaine,__" __said__David,__ "__please __just __listen __to __us. __I __know __you __didn__'__t __want __to __join __the __Warblers __when __you __first __got __here. __We __understand __that; __you __were __going __through __a __lot. __That__'__s __why __we __didn__'__t __press __it. __But __Blaine, __you__'__re __**good**__. __You__'__re __really __good. __I __think __you __could __bring __a __lot __to __the __Warblers. __And __we __could __bring __a __lot __to __you.__" __David __sat __down __next __to __Blaine.__ "__The __change __in __you __since __you __got __here__—__it__'__s __amazing. __You __notice __that, __don__'__t __you?__"_

_Blaine nodded. "Yes, yes I do," and I know you mean well by asking me to audition for the Warblers, but… Don't make me do this right now, please."_

"_We won't make you do anything," said David, shooting a warning look at Wes. "But just consider it, okay?"_

"_Okay," said Blaine. "I'll…consider it."_

"I'm not sure exactly how Wes got David to agree to what happened next—"

"Oh, but I am," said Wes with a smirk. "And so is David."

David gave Blaine and Sean a long-suffering look. "_You_ try holding out against this guy," he said. "Just try it."

"Would you like to tell the story?" asked Blaine archly.

"No, no," said David. "You go ahead. You're doing so wonderfully."

"Thank you," said Blaine. _"__Anyway__…"_

"_Blaine, Blaine, Blaine!"_

"_What, what, what?"_

"_Come__oe,__" __said__Wes,__grabbing__Blaine__'__s__arm,__ "__we__have__something__to__show__you!__"_

"_Don't maul the poor boy," said David._

"_What do you have to show me?" asked Blaine skeptically._

"_It's a surprise!" said Wes._

_Blaine rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be dragged along by the enthusiastic junior. "My first friends in two years and they have to be you two."_

_David and Wes led Blaine along a hallway he was unfamiliar with, stopping in front of a set of double doors._

"_And now," said Wes grandly, sweeping open the doors, "I proudly present to you the Dalton Academy Warblers!"_

_He __and __David __ran __across __the __room __to __join __the __rest __of __the __group __as __the __blazer-clad __boys __began __to __sing, __David __taking __the __first __solo._

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend

You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in

And if you do not want to see me again"

_The rest of the group picked up the lyrics_

"I would understand, I would understand."

_Wes stepped to the front to take the next solo_

"The angry boy, a bit too insane, icing over a secret pain

You know you don't belong.

You're the first to fight, you're way too loud

You're the flash of light on a burial shroud

I know something's wrong."

_David joined him on the next line before the entire group took up the chorus_

"Well everyone I know has got a reason

To say put the past away."

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend

You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in

And if you do not want to see me again

I would understand, I would understand."

_All __the __Warblers __melted __backwards __to __allow __a __blond __boy __whom __Blaine __did __not __know __to __take __the __solo_

"And well he's on the table and he's gone to code

And I do not think anyone knows

What they are doing here."

_Another boy, only vaguely familiar to Blaine, took the blonde's place_

"And your friends have left you, you've been dismissed

I never thought it would come to this

And I, I want you to know"

_The soloist merged again with the rest of the group to sing,_

"Everyone's got to face down the demons

Maybe today we can put the past away.

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend

You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in

And if you do not want to see me again

I would understand, I would understand, I would understand.

"I would understand

I would understand

Understand.

"Can you put the past away?

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,

I would understand."

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,

I would understand,"

_Sang __David_

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,

And I would understand,"

_Sang __Wes_

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,

I would understand,"

_The __group __sang __together_

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,

And I would understand."

*****AM*****

Sean snorted. "That was subtle."

"That's Wes for you," said David. "Mr. Subtlety. At least he let me choose the song."

"It was a perfect song," allowed Sean.

"Admit it," said Wes. "It was a brilliant idea."

"Whatever you say," said David.

"I _needed_ to convince Blaine to join the Warblers."

"You _needed_ to get brownie points with the group so they would vote you onto the council for the next year," said Blaine.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

"So how much did the rest of the group know about what was going on with Blaine when they sang that song for him?" asked Sean.

"Well, we had to tell them some of it to convince them to do it," said David. "We tried to leave out anything really personal or specific, but we also wanted to let Blaine know that Wes and I weren't the only ones willing to accept him for who he was."

"We?" said Sean. "I thought you weren't on board with this."

"Well…"

"I knew it," said Blaine. "Don't trust this one, Sean, "he's not nearly as innocent as he appears."

"Believe me, "said Sean, "I'm beginning to see that."

"I know not of what you speak," said David. "I am the epitome of innocence."

"Yeah," said Blaine as Sean snorted, "and I'm straight."

"Well I'm certainly not going to be the one to break that news to Kurt," said David.

At the mention of the younger boy Blaine sobered.

"So, how did you respond to the Warblers' presentation?" asked Sean, hoping to redirect his roommate's thoughts away from Kurt.

"Well, I wanted to be annoyed," said Blaine. "And I kind of was, but I was also kind of touched. And Wes and David were right; it _did_ look like a lot of fun. It certainly got me thinking, which was of course their intent, the conniving bastards," he shot Wes and David a playfully angry look.

"I had taken David and Wes's 'advice' and stared work on a new song. I'd never actually played or sung my songs for anyone—the day I met Wes and David was an accident—but maybe their brand of crazy had started to rub off on me, because I decided that…"

"_I want to audition."_

"_What?"_

_Blaine swallowed. "I said I want to audition. For the Warblers. I—I already have a song and everything—"_

_David's eyebrows rose and Wes's face split into a big grin._

"_I knew you'd come around! David, didn't I tell you he'd come around!"_

_David smiled. "Blaine, that's great. What made you change your mind?"_

_Blaine shrugged and shuffled his feet. "It looked fun."_

"_Can't argue with that," said Wes._

"_So how do I—?"_

"_Don't worry about a thing, David and I will set it all up for you. All you have to do is show up at Warbler Hall—that's the room we performed in the other day—tomorrow at four o'clock."_

"_Tomorrow?" gulped Blaine._

"_Why wait?"_

**AN: ****I****'****m ****thinking ****that ****something ****you****'****ve ****all ****been ****waiting ****for ****is ****going ****to ****happen ****not ****in ****the ****next ****chapter, ****but ****in ****the ****one ****after ****that. ****That ****will ****not ****be ****the ****end ****of ****the ****story ****though.**

**Also, ****this ****is ****completely ****un-fanfic, ****though ****not ****un-Glee ****related: ****I ****have ****posted ****an ****online ****audition ****for ****the ****Glee ****Project. ****Okay, ****so ****so ****have ****many, ****MANY ****other ****people, ****but ****why ****not, ****right? ****It ****can't ****hurt. ****If ****you're ****interested ****in ****seeing ****it (****and ****liking ****it) ****it's ****on ****the ****Glee ****Project w****ebsite ****under ****the ****username ****Snake-Queen. ****I ****know ****this ****completely ****does ****away ****with ****any ****anonymity ****I ****have ****on ****here, ****at ****least ****for ****anyone ****who ****views ****the ****video, ****but the ****thing's ****online ****for ****anyone ****who ****cares ****to ****to ****see ****anyway, ****so...**

**Likes ****for ****that****(and ****reviews ****for ****this ****chapter) ****would ****be ****appreciated ****:)**

**-SQ**


	18. Chapter 18: Jealousy

**Author's Note: Longish chapter! :) Also with a longish song in it, but still a fairly long chapter regardless. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Also, _Glee_ is back from hiatus! :D **

**Anyway, read on**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Just in case any of you thought I owned _Glee_, I don't.**

**Chapter Eighteen: Jealousy**

When Blaine, Wes, David, and Sean returned to Dalton, the two Juniors had to face their daunting piles of homework.

"Um," said Blaine. "Where should I…?"

"You can come back to our room if you want," said all three of the others at the same time.

They looked at each other and laughed.

"Obviously, you're welcome wherever you choose to go," said David. "So I guess it's up to you."

Blaine considered for a moment. "I think I might stay in Wes and David's room for another night—no offense, Sean—"

"None taken," said the blonde.

"—but I'll probably get more homework done in our room—_yes_ offense, Wes and David—so I think I'll go back there right now, if that's okay with you."

"I just said it was, didn't I?" said Sean. "Is there anything you need to get from their room first?"

"Yeah," said Blaine. "You can go back to our room, I'll meet you there."

"Nah, I'll help, it's an excuse to put off my homework for a few minutes longer."

Blaine laughed. "Alright. Thanks."

The four of them went on to Wes and David's room and then Blaine and Sean returned to their own room with Blaine's homework things. Blaine got off to a surprisingly good start, but soon he began to be distracted by the smallest things.

Around three-thirty Sean's phone went off. He looked at it and rolled his eyes.

"Who is it?" asked Blaine, thankful for the distraction from chemistry.

"Jessica," said Sean. "She wants me to come over to 'study'."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. Jessica was Sean's on-again-off-again girlfriend. "Is she even studying the same material as us?"

Sean shook his head. "Nope," he said cheerfully. "But I think I'll go anyway, I could use a break. See you later, Blaine, okay?"

Blaine nodded, understanding the semi-veiled question in Sean's words. "Yeah, that's fine.

Sean stood, gave Blaine's shoulder a pat, and left.

Blaine tried to go back to his work, but he just couldn't concentrate. Finally he laid his textbook and worksheet aside and let his eyes roam around the room.

They fell on his guitar and David's suggestion came back to him. He took the guitar out of its case and pulled it onto his lap. Several half-finished sheets of music fluttered out beside him. He struck a chord, and then another, and another…

*****AM*****

Blaine was still scribbling down notes and lyrics when Wes and David knocked on his door two hours later to ask him if he wanted to go to dinner.

"I'm busy," said Blaine. He scratched out a line of melody notes.

"We're hungry."

"I'm working." He wrote in a new series of notes, considered it, and crossed that out too.

"And I'm Wes. Come on, Blaine, surely you can afford to take a break for dinner.

"You go ahead," said Blaine, now considering the wording of the phrase. "I'll eat later."

"Come on Blaine," said Wes again. The lock rattled and the door opened. "Don't be so stub—oh." The sudden change in Wes's tone made Blaine look up. A slow smile was spreading across his face.

"Ah," said David, also smiling.

Blaine glared at them. "It's not a new song, I'll have you know. I'd already started it before you made the suggestion."

"And what brought you back to it?" asked Wes, smirking knowingly.

Blaine grumbled incoherently.

"That's what I thought."

David came over and tried to peer at the music strewn about Blaine on the bed, but the younger boy whipped it violently out of sight.

"Alright," said David, holding up his hands and taking a step backward. "I can take a hint. Sheesh. Can we hear it when it's done at least?"

"Maybe." Blaine hunched back over his music.

"Blaine, stop," said David. He rubbed his friend's shoulder. "You're as tense as a bow string."

"I need to finish this."

"And you will, _after_ you eat dinner." He tugged the papers out of Blaine's hands and Wes laid aside the curly-haired boy's guitar.

"You'll work better once you have some food in you," said Wes.

Blaine sighed but grudgingly got to his feet, stretching the kinks out of his back. "Ooof. I have got to stop sleeping on the floor."

He took a step toward the door, but David caught him by the shoulders. "Blaine, look at me." Blaine looked. "Are you okay? Really?"

Blaine's smile was tight and tired. "Yes and no. I'm not going to go off on anyone if that's what you mean. I'll be good little Blaine, I promise."

"You should go to sleep early tonight," said Wes.

Blaine made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "I can try."

*****AM*****

Blaine did try to go to sleep early that night, but his brain was swimming with notes and lyrics and rhythms that made it impossible. He didn't end up going to sleep until Wes and David did, close to midnight.

The next day was Monday. It seemed incredibly strange to Blaine to be going to school, as though he had been gone for months instead of only a weekend. He had forgotten that, while Kurt's hospitalization and Blaine's own realization of his feelings for him had turned his world upside down, for the majority of the students at Dalton life was continuing in its normal patterns.

"What are you thinking about so intently?" asked Sean as he and Blaine walked together toward the dining hall.

"A song," said Blaine.

"Oh?" said Sean.

"Don't 'oh' all innocent like that," said Blaine. "I know you're dying to know what it's about."

"Well, what is it about?"

"Kurt."

Sean snorted. "I should have known."

"Hey!"

"You really have it bad for him, don't you?" said Sean, shaking his head so that his curls bounced around erratically.

"Uh, yeah, kinda," said Blaine, rubbing the back of his neck.

"He's gonna be okay, you know," said Sean.

Blaine nodded.

"Really."

"I know, I just…"

"It sucks."

"Yeah."

The two of them entered the dining hall, filled their trays, and chose a table. A moment later David and Wes slid into the seats across from them.

"How's Kurt's song coming?" asked David.

"They know?" said Sean.

"We know everything" said Wes smugly.

"It's kind of true," said Blaine ruefully.

"So let's continue where we left off, shall we?" said Wes. Blaine, Sean, and David looked at him in confusion. "You know, where Blaine was about to audition for the Warblers."

"Now?" said Blaine.

"There's no time like the present."

"But the whole school's in here!"

"Haven't you read _Harry__Potter_?" said Wes.

"Of course I have," said Blaine. "What does that have to do with—"

"It's like Sirius said in the fifth book, it's so crowded and noisy in here no one's likely to overhear us."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I was about to audition for the Warblers…"

"_Wes, I don't think I can do this."_

"_You'll be fine."_

"_No, __I __really __don__'__t __think __I __can _do _this.__" __Blaine __was __panicking. __What __had __he __been _thinking_? __He __couldn__'__t __go __in __there __and __sing, __sing _his song_, __in __front __of __a __bunch __of __boys __he __didn__'__t __know. __His __entire __body __was __shaking __and __he __felt __hot __tears __pricking __his __eyes. __Bile __rose __in __his __throat._

"_Blaine. __Blaine. _Blaine_.__" __David __gripped __his __shoulders __and __held __his __gaze.__ "__Breathe.__"_

_Blaine took a few shuddering breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out._

"_You __can __do __this. __You _want _to __do __this. __We __can__'__t __force __you __to __audition, __but __it __would __be __a __real __shame __if __you __were __to __back __out __now, __after __all __the __work __you__'__ve __put __into __this.__"_

_Blaine swallowed, trying to control his panic. "Are you sure you can't come in with me?" he asked, his voice almost pleading._

_Wes shook his head. "We told you, you audition in front of the Council and no one else. It's the rules."_

_Blaine __nodded.__ "__O__—__Okay.__" __He __fingered __his __guitar __strings.__ "__O-Okay, __I__—__you__'__re __right, __I _do _want __this.__" __He __took __a __breath __and __turned __toward __the __door. __Wish __me __luck.__"_

"_Good luck, Blaine!"_

_Blaine pushed the choir room door open and Wes and David rushed to the window._

_Blaine faced the three Council members at the front of the room. His hands felt cold and his tongue clumsy as he shouldered his guitar and said, "Um, hi. I'm, uh, Blaine Anderson." He focused his gaze on the wall above the Council members' heads, so that he could see them without look directly at them. Once of them was the blond soloist from the other day; he was smiling. The other two both had brown hair and straight faces._

"_Good afternoon," said the smiling blond. "What are you going to sing for us today?"_

_Blaine__'__s __fingers __nervously __stroked __the __body __of __his __guitar. _Make eye contact_,__he __reminded __himself._Make eye contact._ "__It__'__s __called__ '__Jealousy__'__. __By, __um, __me.__"_

_The taller of the brown-haired Council members lifted his eyebrows. "Really?"_

"_Yes."_

_The boy wrote something down on a paper in front of him. "Please, sing."_

_Blaine settled his guitar across his chest and, gripping it like a security blanket, began to play._

"I hate where I'm at

Acting crazy like that

I know I've been wrong

It's something I'm working on

And I don't know what to do

It's changing me, it's killing you

I'd tear out my insides if I could

But I don't know if it'd do me good

I'm sorry friends, I'm sorry lovers

To put us all in this mess

I know we've still got each other

But I'm in distress

'Cause every time it feels like I've figured it out

I can't seem to figure it in

It's got nothing to do with me

It's not even you, you see

It's part of my chemistry

It's this jealousy for you

I'm in absolutely no position

To be so needlessly unkind

When I'm the one writing this fiction

Make it real in my mind

It drives me crazy in the morning

Who is this monster in the mirror?

I try to get the steam to fog it out

But I just can't get it clear

Oh I can't stand what I'm feeling

It's just like poison in my veins

I know that I'm speaking

But I don't know what I'm saying

'Cause every time I feel like the world just got lighter

It seems my muscles give out

It's got nothing to do with me

It's not even you, you see

It's part of my chemistry

It's this jealousy for you

And I'm hearing your voice

Babe, you know it's your choice

Maybe so

And I know it's no use

But it's the only excuse

That I know, no, no

Let me go

Let me go

Oh let me go

Oh let me go

Now let's be real, I feel just like a child

Someone could be stealing all my toys

So call me dumb, call me wild

See, that's the thing with little boys

Oh now I can't get it out in the shower

Or drink it off at the bar

This sugar's gone sour

And it's gone way too far

'Cause every time I feel like I'm riding so high

Feel on top of the world

The bitch just keeps telling me no

It's got nothing to do with me

It's not even you, you see

It's part of my chemistry

This demon is killing me

And oh, Christ, it's filling me

It's this jealously

Oh, and I just can't believe

In this jealousy,

This jealousy for you

Oh, this jealousy,

This jealousy for you"

"_Thank you," said the third Council member, the one who had not yet spoken._

_Blaine stood there for a moment before realizing that this had been a dismissal. He left the room almost at a run, and was caught by Wes and David just past the threshold._

"_How'd it go?" asked David._

"_I—um—I don't know…"_

"_You were brilliant!" said Wes, grinning._

"_You were watching?"_

_David rolled his eyes at Wes. "So much for secrecy."_

"_You really think I was good?"_

"_Yes," said David, smiling, "you were."_

_Blaine smiled nervously back at him. "Do you think they'll let me in?"_

"_They'd have to be crazy not to."_

"So, did they let you in?" teased Sean.

Blaine laughed and rolled his eyes. "No, they told me I was awful."

"Well, you are, obviously."

"Thanks so much, Sean," said Blaine dryly.

"For distracting you from your obsessive moping?" said Sean, lifting his eyebrows. "You're welcome. I'm here all week."

"Blaine's mouth quirked and he nodded in acquiescence. "Touché."

**AN: We're getting _closer_ to what you all keep begging me for, I promise. Both the song & the story need to be finished, & they very nearly are.**

**Also, something I've noticed: the proportion of readers of my _Artemis__Fowl_ fanfic who review is about 3x that of the proportion of reviewing readers for my _Glee_ & HP fanfics. Why is that, I wonder?**

**-SQ**


	19. Chapter 19: It Comes Together

**Author's Note: Another largely flashback chapter. But THIS flashback brings us up to where we started in the show! I can't promise you it will be the last flashback in the story, because we still need to go back to Blaine's pre-Dalton days & I haven't quite decided how I'm going to do that yet. But I CAN promise you that it will be the last flashback before Kurt wakes up. That's right, be excited ;)**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Glee_ any more than I did the last time I posted. Nor do I own the song.**

**Chapter Nineteen: It Comes Together**

Blaine hadn't been this distracted in class since—well, since last week, but _before_ that he hadn't been this distracted in class since before his transfer to Dalton. All he could think about was his song; it was like a damn had been broken, a cork popped, and suddenly the piece of music he had been struggling with so much that he had nearly given up on it couldn't get written fast enough. For people who had encouraged his working on the song in the first place, however, Wes, David, and Sean were being rather obstructive to the process.

"Knock, knock," said Wes as he opened the door to Blaine and Sean's room.

"Hello," said Sean without looking up from his textbook. "Come in."

"We already have," said Wes, which was true.

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Is this a planned meeting?"

"Sean didn't tell you we were coming over?" said David, coming in and making himself comfortable on Blaine's bed.

"No…said Blaine, looking significantly at Sean. "He didn't."

Sean shrugged. "If I had he would have just run away to work on his song."

"You wanted me to work on the song!"

"And we still want you to," said Wes, "just not right now."

Blaine sighed and put his music to the side. "But I'm almost done, guys," he whined.

"Then you'll finish in no time once you get back to it."

"But my train of thought—"

"Has already been interrupted," said Sean cheerfully.

Blaine glared at him. "I knew I should never have let you meet the two of them."

Sean grinned rakishly.

"Alright, alright," said Blaine. "I'll bite. What do you want?"

"To finish the story, of course," said David. "What else?"

"Of course. What else? The gruesome fascination with the nitty gritty details of my messed up life continues."

"Blaine, you know I don't mean it like that. If you don't want to tell me—"

"No, Sean, I do, I'm sorry. I just… It's really hard for me to talk about this. I've spent the last year trying to forget about it."

"You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do. And I just told you, I _want_to."

"Time is ticking away," said Wes.

"Yes, yes, I'm getting there. So I auditioned for the Warblers and I _did_ get in, thank you very much. The next several weeks were relatively uneventful, so I'll skip those. I had a few panicky moments, and suddenly being a part of such a large group was rather overwhelming, but they were very understanding and welcoming and I started to feel comfortable with them in spite of myself. I was just another guy in the background—the main soloist at that time was one of the Council members, a senior names Evan Landberg—but that was completely fine with me. I loved performing, but I wasn't ready to step into the spotlight just yet. They did give me one little solo in one of the songs, literally one word. That was as terrifying as it was amazing. During those weeks…it was the first time in years I could remember feeling happy while I was at school. If you were to go back in time and see that Blaine, you might almost recognize him.

"So when was the final time you lost it before last week?" said Sean.

"You have a good memory," said Blaine.

"That is where you're leading, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Blaine, "indeed it is. It was second semester, just after Sectionals. We had a really big concert; we didn't get to Regionals last year so it left us open to other gigs. A _lot_ of people were there—our friends, families, people from the community, even afew important local government and performance community figures."

"_That was awesome, guys!" said James, the tall brunet Council member. "One of our best performances yet."_

"_I agree," said Derrick (the other brunet member of the Council). "They loved us."_

"_Then what are we waiting for?" said Luke. "Let's go out and bask in their love!"_

_The Warblers spilled out into the waiting crowd and were swallowed up by their admiring fans, enthusiastic friends, and proud families. A couple of the seniors were approached by some of the more prestigious members of the audience._

_Blaine's parents had had to leave as soon as the concert was over so he had intended to stand quietly in the background, perhaps shadowing Wes and David as they received recognition from their friends and families. But he suddenly found himself surrounded by a small group of congratulatory strangers and once he had satisfied them by listening to their praise and answering their questions, he looked up to find himself quite separated from his friends._

_Blaine swallowed. There were nineteen other Warblers somewhere in this room; surely he should be able to find one of them. People pressed in on either side of him, making him feel nervous, hot, and slightly claustrophobic. _

Don't panic_,__he __thought __to __himself. _You're alright, don't panic.

_Then someone bumped into him, nearly knocking him over._

"_Hey! Watch where you're going!"_

"_Sorry, muttered Blaine. He scanned the crowd for the familiar navy blue blazers and though he saw a group of them moving toward the door. He tried to follow them, but the person who had bumped into him was still in his way._

"_Um, excuse me, can I get through please?"_

_The person looked down at him. "Hey," he said, "you were in the concert."_

"_Um, yeah, I was. Can I get through please? My friends are leaving."_

"_What's it like going to a private school?" asked the stranger, a boy who appeared to be a year or two older than Blaine and a lot larger. "Is it all it's cracked up to be? Be honest, is it actually worth the tuition?"_

"_Um," said Blaine, "I really have to go…" he tried to step around the boy, but he caught Blaine by the shoulder. "Just answer my question. Or are you private school boys too snooty to talk to public school kids?"_

"_Let go!" said Blaine, panic rising in his chest. He wrenched away from the boy's large hand. "Leave me alone!"_

"_Hey," said the boy, looking first startled and then angry. "No need to get defensive; I just asked you a question."_

"_Please let me go," begged Blaine, still struggling to free himself from the older boy's obstructive grip and presence._

"_I want you to apologize to me first for being rude," said the boy. "You're not doing a very good job of representing your school."_

"_Just let me go!" screamed Blaine, losing his battle for control. He lashed out, his only thought to free himself from the overwhelming situation as quickly as possible._

"_Hey! Someone call security! This kid's attacking me!"_

_Blaine covered his ears, ducked under the larger boy's flailing arms, and ran as fast as he could, knocking people out of the way as he went. He didn't know where he was going, only that it was away from there. He was almost at the door when a security guard loomed in front of him and forced him into a skidding stop._

"_Put your hands above your head."_

_Blaine tried to run the other direction, but another security guard blocked his way._

"_Put __your __hands __above __your __head _now_!__"_

"_Stop! Stop! Let us through! We're his friends! He's having a panic attack! Let us through!"_

_Wes and David appeared through the crowd and Blaine almost collapsed in relief._

"_Blaine, put your hands above your head," said Wes levelly. This time Blaine obeyed. "There you go. Now lower them slowly. Good boy. You don't want to attack a security officer, trust me; it would not end well for you."_

_For the first time since the other boy had grabbed his shoulder Blaine really registered his surroundings; the stunned and confused crowd, the security officers, Wes and David holding out their arms to him._

"_Am I—am I going to be arrested?"_

_David shook his head. "No, the Council is explaining your… situation to the head of security right now. No one actually got hurt. You didn't, right?"_

_Blaine shook his head. "No, I…I'm fine…"_

"_Blaine,__what_happened_?__"_

"_I—I don't know," said Blaine helplessly. "I got scared and overwhelmed and… David, Wes, can we go back to Dalton please?_

"_That," said Wes, "sounds like an excellent idea."_

"Wow," said Sean. "That sounds…intense."

"You have no idea," said Wes, shaking his head. "We were sure Blaine was going to hurt someone and be shipped off to court."

"It was like we were moving in slow motion," said David. "Trying to get to him before something bad—well, worse—happened."

"You did, though," said Sean.

"Thank God," said Wes.

"And you haven't had an episode like that since?" said Sean. "Well, until last week?"

Blaine shook his head. "There've been a couple semi-close calls, but I've always been able to remove myself from the situation before anyone even knew something was wrong. For the most part I've put that part of my life behind me. Or at least thought I had."

"So, is that the end of the story?" asked Sean.

"Almost," said Blaine. "The rest of the year was definitely uphill. I was featured in a few more songs, and let me tell you, I loved each one more than the last. Soloing is kind of addictive. That Blaine you would have recognized. I wasn't the lead soloist yet but I was...I had a handle on myself and who I was I guess you could say. I gained confidence; I grew as both a person and a performer. So much, in fact, that when school started up again the next fall the new council members thought it would be a good idea to give me a solo." He shot a pointed look at Wes and David.

"Hey, it _was_ a good idea," said Wes.

"For once I have to agree," said David. "And it wasn't just best friend favoritism either. Thad was on board with it too."

"Besides," said Wes, "the song was _perfect_ for you."

"_Hello Warblers, and welcome to our first meeting of the new term," said Wes, banging his newly acquired gavel on the podium for attention. "We are your new Warbler Council, elected by you to lead our honorable club to further greatness and glory. I am Wesley Montgomery and these are my trusty associates, David Thompson and Thad Harwood."_

_The Warblers clapped dutifully, though some of them rolled their eyes discreetly at one another._

"_Now, as you may be aware," said Thad, "we already have a performance coming up at the start of the year assembly. We have been asked to perform one song, which the three of us have already selected. David?"_

_David pulled out a stack of music and set it before him on the desk. "I know that we usually have auditions for solos, but seeing as we have a very limited amount of time for preparation, the Council has already selected a soloist for this performance. Blaine Anderson, if you would come to the front please."_

"_Me?" said Blaine._

"_Do you see another Blaine Anderson in the room?" said Wes._

"_This isn't really fair to everyone else. I mean, I didn't even audition…"_

"_Don't you want to solo?" said Thad._

"_Well, yes, of course," said Blaine, grinning a little._

"_Then it's settled," said Wes, banging his gavel once more. "Let's get started."_

"Well?" said Sean impatiently. "What song was it?"

"We were just getting to that," said David, grinning.

"_Please tell me I'm not dreaming."_

"_You're not dreaming, Blaine," said Wes, clapping him on the back. "And you're going to be fantastic."_

_Blaine grinned. "This is really happening, huh?"_

"_Yes, Blaine, this is really happening," said David. "You're really about to sing the leading solo in front of the whole school. Now go out there and knock 'em dead."_

_Blaine took his place in front of the microphone and the rest of the group fanned out behind him._

"Hey, don't write yourself off yet

It's only in your head you feel left out or looked down on

Just try your best, try everything you can

And don't worry what they tell themselves when you're away

It just takes some time, little girl

You're in the middle of the ride

Everything (everything) will be just fine

Everything (everything) will be alright (alright)

Hey, you know they're all the same

You know you're doing better on your own, so don't buy in

Live right now, yeah just be yourself

It doesn't matter if it's good enough for anyone else

It just takes some time, little girl

You're in the middle of the ride

Everything (everything) will be just fine

Everything (everything) will be alright (alright)

Hey, don't write yourself off yet

It's only in your head you feel left out or looked down on

Just try your best, try everything you can

And don't worry what the bitter hearts are gonna say

It just takes some time, little girl

You're in the middle of the ride

Everything (everything) will be just fine

Everything (everything) will be alright (alright)

It just takes some time, little girl

You're in the middle of the ride

Everything (everything) will be just fine

Everything (everything) will be alright (alright)"

_The __room __burst __into __riotous __applause __and __Blaine __positively __glowed. __Yes. _Yes. This was _what __he __was __born __to __do. __He __had __sung __his __first __full __solo, __not __just __a __single __word __or __phrase, __but __a __full __song __where _he _was __the __lead __singer. __He __had __felt __the __thrill __of __the __spotlight __and __he __was __never __going __back._

"And that would be me. As you know me now," said Blaine, "lead soloist and all. Or as you knew me before last week. Though the full reality of it only lasted about five weeks."

"What happened after five weeks?" asked Sean.

Blaine smiled ironically. "I met Kurt."

**AN: We are soooooo close to Kurt waking up. As you may have deduced, that coincides with the completion of Blaine's song.**

**While reviews won't make me update any faster for the simple reason that I'm already updating as quickly as I can, they WILL be greatly appreciated, and readying & replying to them will help me get through the time between now and NEXT Tuesday night when I will be in Cincinnati seeing the SPACE Tour!**

**-SQ**


	20. Chapter 20: The Muse

**Author's Note: I am SO sorry that it has taken me so long to get this chapter up! It is a busy, busy, busy time of year with all of the end-of-the-semester things and finals and all of that and I just haven't had time to write. I hope this chapter might _partially_ make up for the wait though… ;)**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: You wouldn't believe me if I told you I DID own _Glee_ (at least I certainly hope you wouldn't). The song is also not mine, but rather another borrowed piece by the wonderful Darren Criss, or rather one that we've seen before now resorted to its rightful completed form ;)**

**Chapter Twenty: The Muse**

The first thing that Kurt knew was that his head _hurt_. It hurt monumentally. It hurt to the extent that being of aware of anything else was impossible. All he wanted was to fall back into unconsciousness, which led to the second realization; that he was conscious now and hadn't been a few moments before. Well, it felt like moments, but Kurt didn't really have a firm grasp on time just then. If only his head didn't hurt so much! It shouldn't be _possible_ for someone's head to hurt so much and have them still be awake. And with that thought, he promptly passed out from the pain.

*****AM*****

The second time Kurt came to consciousness, his head hurt slightly less—just enough for him to notice how awful the rest of him felt.

_Sick, _he thought groggily. _I__'__m __sick__…__I__…__I __went __to __class__…__but __I __was __still __sick__…__and __I__…__I __don__'__t __remember __what __happened__… __Am __I __still __in __class__…__? __No__… __Why __does __my __head __hurt __so __much? __The __last __thing __I __remember __is __being __in __class__…__no, __I __think __I __left __class__… __or __did __I __just __imagine __leaving __class? __I __wanted __Blaine__… __I _saw _Blaine__…__or __maybe __I __dreamed __him__… __I __shouldn__'__t __have __gone __to __school __that __day__… __What __day _was _it? __What __day __is __it __now? __Where __am __I? __Where__'__s __Blaine? __Where__'__s __my __dad?_

Kurt wondered if he should try to open his eyes, but more sleep overtook him once more and he fell back into oblivion.

*****AM*****

The third time Kurt awoke, he opened his eyes, pushed himself laboriously up onto his elbows, and, seeing his step-brother sitting in a chair a few feet away, croaked, "Finn? Where am I? Why am I here? What exactly happened to me?"

Finn, who had been dozing in his chair, gave a strangled yelp and jerked his head up to ogle at Kurt, a rather unnerving look on his face, as though he had seen a ghost.

"Finn?"

"Oh my God—Kurt! You're—oh my God!" He leapt from his chair, ran to a button on the wall, pressed it, and said, "He's awake! Nurse Paul! Doctor Johnston! Someone! Kurt Hummel's awake!" He turned back to Kurt, a huge grin now spreading across his face. "You're awake!"

"And you're excited," said Kurt; his voice was rough his both his ears and throat.

"Excited?" said Finn. "Of course I'm excited—you're awake!" He sat back down in his chair beside Kurt's bed. "Our parents just stepped out for a moment—they were gonna come back any minute…" He shook his head in wonder. "Can I—can I touch you? You're not gonna break are you?"

"I don't think so," replied Kurt.

Finn laid a hesitant hand on Kurt's shoulder and, when Kurt leaned into it, drew him into a careful hug. "How do you feel? Are you okay? You should lie back down…" Finn looked and sounded so flustered that Kurt, as sick as he still felt, had to laugh.

"It's not funny!" protested Finn, laying Kurt back down on his pillow with unusual gentleness. "You've been unconscious for three days!"

"Three days?" said Kurt, feeling slightly woozy again. "Finn…what _happened_?"

*****AM*****

Sean had left to go fight with or make-up with—Blaine wasn't quite sure which—Jessica, and Blaine had shut himself in their room. His phone was off, his door was locked, and he wasn't coming out until he had finished his song—Kurt's song.

Guitar balanced on his knee, he scribbled feverishly, copying the crowded, disorganized mess of notes and lyrics onto the collection of fresh white staff lines in front of him. Verse…verse…chorus…verse…bridge…chorus…second bridge (no, that wasn't part of conventional son structure, but Blaine didn't care; it _belonged_ there)…chorus…chorus…end. End. Blaine stared down at the neatly handwritten piece of sheet music full of his own blocky ink strokes outlining that which, when translated into sounds rendered by voice and guitar, would become perhaps the most important song he had ever written.

He laid his fingers across the strings of his guitar, took a breath, and then stopped. It was _Kurt__'__s_ song, and Kurt should be the first person to hear it; he should be there the first time Blaine played it in full. Suddenly Blaine stood and sung his guitar onto his back, clutching the newly-written sheet music in his hand.

I have to go to the hospital," he said aloud.

Blaine came across Wes, David, and Thad at one of the tables in the front lounge.

"Wait, where are you going?" said David.

"The hospital," said Blaine, continuing to the door without breaking his stride. "I have to see Kurt."

"But you have class in fifteen minutes!"

Blaine ignored his friends' protests and question and hurried out to his car. In one corner of his mind Blaine knew he wasn't making sense; Kurt was unconscious, he wouldn't even know Blaine was there, let alone signing to him. But Blaine had to sing him the song, and he had to do it now; it was… it was the…he just had to.

*****AM*****

"Everything seems to be in order," said the doctor, stepping back from Kurt's bedside. "You are a very luck young man, Mr. Hummel. Still a rather sick young man, but a very luck one nonetheless."

Kurt nodded. He was lying with his still-slightly-aching head in Carole's lap, her fingers stroking his hair. His father was standing protectively beside him, a hand clamped firmly on his son's shoulder.

"I still don't understand," said Kurt. "How… I was feeling _better_…and then suddenly I'm unconscious in the hospital for _three __days_?"

"You hit your head quite badly," said the doctor. "Do you remember that happening?"

Kurt bit his lip. "It's fuzzy…"

"The entire day or just the end?"

"The entire day…but more so the end… I remember I didn't feel quite as well that morning as I had the night before… Okay, I still felt sick, but I wanted to go to class, so Sean gave me some medicine…"

"What kind of medicine?"

"Just some ibuprofen."

"Had you taken anything else?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. It made me kind of lightheaded though…maybe because I hadn't eaten much for a few days."

"Did you eat that day?"

"Not really. I wasn't hungry."

"Did you drink anything?"

"A little."

"When did you start feeling worse?"

"After lunch, I think…"

"What happened after lunch?"

"I…I don't…class, I guess…I don't remember…" He rubbed his eyes.

"You don't remember anything?"

"Leave him alone," snapped Burt. "He's tired and sick."

"I remember wanting Blaine," said Kurt.

"Oh!" said Finn.

Four heads snapped toward him. "What?"

Kurt pushed himself up on his elbows, but Carole pulled him back down.

"Blaine," said Finn. "He should know you're awake. He's been here every day."

"He has?"

His parents and brother nodded.

"You're right," said Carole. "We should tell the poor boy as soon as possible. And I think we should do it in person."

"What about Kurt?" asked Burt. "I'm not just leaving him here."

"He's in good hands," said Carole. "And he needs rest that he's not going to get with you hovering over him." She slid Kurt's head off her lap and bent down to kiss his forehead. "Get some rest. We'll be back before you know it."

"With Blaine," added Finn in a tone that Kurt was too tired to dissect.

*****AM*****

"Blaine Anderson to the principal's office, please. Blaine Anderson to the principal's office."

"I wonder what's taking him so long," said Burt, shifting impatiently in his seat.

"Maybe he's taking a test or something," said Finn.

The secretary pressed the intercom button to make the announcement again but was interrupted by the arrival of Wes and David.

"He's not here," panted Wes, hands on his knees.

"What do you mean, he's not here?" demanded Burt.

"He left," said David, also breathing heavily.

"Where to?" asked Carole.

"The hospital," said Wes. You must have just missed him. He said he had to see Kurt."

"But that's what we're here about!" exclaimed Finn.

"Kurt?" said David sharply. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah," said Finn. "He woke up."

*****AM*****

Blaine barely took the time to lock his car before sprinting up the steps to the hospital, guitar thumping against his back in a manner that was sure to leave a bruise. The line at the reception desk was long, and Blaine was just debating whether it was worth the risk to try and sneak back to Kurt's room when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Can I help you?"

Shelby the receptionist stood smiling at him, twirling a lock of red-brown hair around her index finger. "I'm on break, but if there's anything you need I'd be more than happy to…" she trailed off.

"Shelby!" said Blaine, happy to see a friendly face. "Yes, there is something you can help me with. I need to see Kurt Hummel."

Shelby's face fell. "Oh. I'm not supposed to—"

"Please," said Blaine, turning on his puppy dog eyes. "It's really important to me."

The young woman hesitated "Well…okay. I'll take you there. But only because it's you." She smiled and laid her manicured fingers on Blaine's arm.

"Thanks," said Blaine with distracted gratefulness. He walked with Shelby through the corridors to Kurt's room.

"So what's with the guitar?" said Shelby, leaning over to finger the instrument's polished neck.

"Please don't touch it," said Blaine, shifting away from the older girl.

"Sorry… Why do you have it? Are you a musician?" she said excitedly.

"Uh, yeah," said Blaine.

"I love musicians," said Shelby dreamily. "It's somehow sexy and romantic at the same time." She reached out as though to touch the guitar again then snatched her hand back when Blaine looked at her. "Can you play something for me? Please?"

"Now?" said Blaine incredulously.

"Why not?"

"I need to see Kurt," snapped Blaine.

"Oh. Right." They stopped in front of the door. "Do you need anything else?" she asked, tilting her head so that her auburn hair swung sideways across her face.

"No," said Blaine. "Thank you."

Shelby hesitated for a few moments as though wanting to say something else, but when she didn't Blaine pushed open the hospital room door and stepped inside.

Kurt lay unconscious on the bed, just as he had for the past three days. Blaine swallowed. It never got easier, seeing his friend like this. God, he loved him so much.

There was a chair beside the bed and Blaine lowered himself into it, sliding his guitar from his back to his chest.

"Um, hi, Kurt," he said, clearing his throat. "I, um, don't know if you can hear me but…you remember that song you had me play for you last week? The unfinished one? Well, I finished it. And I, uh, wanted to sing it for you.

He cleared his throat again and positioned his fingers over the strings.

"_You're a diamond that I'm afraid to touch_

_You're damn near flawless and I'm sure you'd cut_

_On my eyes, my hands, my head, my heart_

_You'd tear this canvas skin apart_

_Oh what a waste human art that'd be_

_You're a dungeon but you're made of glass_

_Your prisoners have no idea they're trapped_

'_Cause you look so beautiful inside_

_It makes us feel like we're alive_

_But Lord knows we'll never survive your walls._

_But didn't you know that all along_

_You didn't need to hear your song_

_And if you didn't know that _

_Then you might as well be dead_

_Medusa's child preserved her former looks_

_She kept her out of all the story books_

_Just to get back at all of the men_

_Who had tried time and time again_

_To claim the right of her demise and end_

_A million years go by and you're still around_

_You're knocking us off our feet, you're knocking us down_

_But we still can't leave you alone_

_The way you move, one would be prone_

_To want to be turned into stone by you_

_But didn't you know that all along_

_You didn't need to hear your song_

_And if you didn't know that _

_Then you might as well be dead_

_You make me feel so alive_

_But as consequence, I want to be dead_

_Was it how you arrived? I can't tell_

_Or was it in the way you left us here?_

_But didn't you know that all along_

_You didn't need to hear your song_

_And if you didn't know that _

_Then you might as well—might as well, oh!_

_Ba da da doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo _

_da da da da doo doo doo doo mmmhmmm, _

_doo da doo da doo do doo doo…_

_You didn't need to hear your song_

'_Cause you just knew it all along_

_But you didn't know that so you might as well—_

_Oh might as well be dead…"_

Blaine bowed his head over the last note, the tears that had begun to fall as he sang leaking down to wet the strings beneath his fingers.

"I told you it would be great once you finished it."

Blaine stooped breathing, his fingers frozen in place on his guitar, every muscle in his body rigid. Slowly he raised his head toward the hospital bed in front of him. A pair of shining glasz eyes returned his gaze.

"Kurt…" he whispered, his throat as dry as sandpaper. "Kurt!" He flung his guitar aside, heedless of the clatter it made on the linoleum floor, and fell to his knees beside Kurt's bed, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him. With a sob, he gathered the younger boy into his arms and pressed his lips to his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth, every part of his face he could reach.

"Blaine—" said Kurt, recovering slightly from the initial shock of his friend's reaction. "Blaine, what—what are you doing…?"

Blaine pulled back to look at him, his eyes red and puffy. "You're awake. You're okay."

"Didn't my family tell you?"

Blaine looked at him blankly.

"They went to Dalton to let you know. Isn't that why you're here?"

Blaine shook his head. "I just…I needed to see you. I must have just missed them." He swallowed and brushed Kurt's cheek with his fingers. "I've been so worried about you…we all have."

"Blaine…" said Kurt slowly. "Am I…am I really awake?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes." He stroked Kurt's cheek again. "Why?"

"Because I could have sworn you just…kissed me."

Blaine's hand stilled. "I did."

"Um…why?"

"Kurt…" Blaine swallowed again, his mouth suddenly very dry. "While you were in the hospital I realized something that I should have realized a while ago, something that Wes and David have been telling me for months." He smiled slightly. "You're my best friend, Kurt, but you're more than that. I'm in love with you." He paused, and when Kurt didn't say anything a sudden icy fear gripped his chest. "Finn and the rest of New Directions were under the impression that you had feelings for me too…"

Kurt blinked. He blinked again. "You're…in love with me?"

"Um, yes."

Kurt's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Kurt? Are you okay? Oh God, I shouldn't have told you like that. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have listened to them. I'm so stupid. I—"

"Blaine, I've been in love with you since the moment you turned around on that staircase."

Blaine stopped. "You…have?"

"Uh-huh."

"All this time and I never… I mean, Finn said you'd liked me since you met me but… Wow, I really am dense."

Kurt giggled. "Yeah, you kind of are."

Blaine's face split into a relived grin and he wiped the tears off Kurt's cheeks with the cuff of his blazer. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long."

"It's okay," said Kurt.

"No," said Blaine. "It's not okay. I was an idiot. I don't know why you didn't give up on me."

"I tried," said Kurt honestly. "Because I thought there was no way anyone as amazing and perfect as you could ever have feelings for someone like me. But I couldn't. I loved you too much."

"Shhhhh," said Blaine as more tears leaked out from beneath Kurt's eyelids. He wrapped an arm around him. "I'm not amazing and perfect, _you_ are. I'm so glad you're awake. I'm so glad you're alright. I kept thinking, what if you didn't wake up and it was all my fault?"

Kurt reached up and cupped Blaine's cheek in his hand. "Blaine, how would it be your fault?"

"I was supposed to be taking care of you."

"I'm a big boy," said Kurt. "I can take care of myself." He smiled. "And I promise to do a better job of it next time."

Blaine kissed his forehead. "Please. I don't think I can take almost losing you again." Blaine slid himself onto the bed beside the other boy and wrapped his arms more fully around him. "How do you feel?"

Kurt shrugged and pressed his face into Blaine's chest. "Sick. I'm glad you're here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Blaine assured him.

"Your song was beautiful," Kurt murmured.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah."

"It was inspired by a very beautiful person."

Kurt turned his head to look at Blaine. "Blaine, do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"How can you even ask that?" said Blaine. "You take my breath away every time I look at you. You are beautiful inside and out."

"And are you really…in love with me?"

"Yes," said Blaine. "Undoubtedly. It just took me a while to realize it. And to admit it to myself."

"Why didn't you want to admit it?" asked Kurt.

"I guess I was…scared."

"Of what?"

"Of…a lot of things." Kurt shivered and Blaine hugged him closer. "You're still pretty sick, baby. Go back to sleep before your family shows up and wakes you up again."

Kurt smiled. "You called me 'baby'."

"Is that okay?"

"Mmmhmm." Kurt snuggled closer to Blaine's comforting warmth. "Blaine?" he murmured.

"Yes, baby?"

Kurt giggled sleepily. "You did that on purpose."

"Maybe." He kissed Kurt's temple.

"I like when you kiss me."

"I like kissing you," said Blaine, placing another one on Kurt's nose. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Mmmmnnnn," said Kurt.

"Then what did you want to tell me, baby?"

"I love you."

Blaine smiled against Kurt's hair, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. "I love you too, Kurt. Go to sleep." But the other boy was already out like a light.

**AN: So I went back and forth about 5 times trying to decide whether to split this into 2 chapters or leave it as 1. It's the longest chapter I've posted for this story and there is a spot in the middle where it makes perfect sense to split it. But if I had done that I would have given you 1 of the shortest chapters I'd ever posted for this story after nearly a month of no updates, and that didn't seem fair. So here it is in its entirely, with Kurt waking up, Blaine singing his completed song (which, if you haven't gathered, is Darren Criss's _The __Muse_, an absolutely beautiful song that everyone should listen to), AND Blaine telling Kurt how he feels about him. I was SO EXCITED to finally write these scenes :D**

**Show me you haven't abandoned me by reviewing!**

**-SQ**


	21. Chapter 21: Company

**Author's Note: Sorry I couldn't get this up earlier. Holiday season :P I hope you like the chapter.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: _Glee._ Not. Mine. :P**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Company**

Burt, Carole, Finn, Wes, and David entered the hospital doors almost at a run. They went up to the desk, which was mercifully and unusually lacking in a line, and inquired rather breathlessly if Blaine Anderson had been there.

"Blaine Anderson?" said the young woman, whose nametag read "Shelby". "Um…he might have…"

"He would have been asking to see Kurt Hummel," said Finn.

The receptionist named Shelby bit her lip guiltily. "I don't remember everyone who— "

"Come on," said Wes, "you were flirting with him shamelessly the last time we were here. If he'd been here you'd know."

The girl colored and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Come on," Burt growled, losing patience. "Speak sense!"

Shelby cowered slightly. "He was with Kurt," she said more clearly. "I—he said it was important…"

The group looked at one another.

"Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Finn Hudson, Wesley Montgomery, and David Thompson," said Burt. "Sign us in as visitors for Kurt Hummel."

"And add Blaine Anderson in too while you're at it," said Carole with a knowing smile, causing the already blushing receptionist's color to darken.

They continued through the corridors. When they arrived Burt pushed open the door to his son's hospital room and then stopped so suddenly that Carole and Finn both bumped into him.

"What is it, Burt?" asked Carole anxiously.

Burt stepped aside to allow his wife, stepson, and his son's friends into the room. He motioned wordlessly to Kurt's bed.

Carole's eyebrows rose and she stifled a small laugh. "Well," she said, "I think we found Blaine."

They had, indeed, found Blaine. The dark-haired Warbler was curled up on his side next to Kurt on the bed. His dark curls had begun to escape from their gel and were splayed onto the hospital pillow beneath his head. His arms were wrapped tightly around Kurt, who was tucked securely against the contours of Blaine's body, his brown head buried in the crook of Blaine's neck.

"Is something going on here that I don't know about?" asked Burt, looking between the two boys on the bed and the three standing behind him in the room.

"Um…" said Finn. e lHhh He looked toward the older boys for help.

"We certainly hope so," said Wes with a grin. When Burt failed to look amused he added, "Blaine really cares about Kurt, Mr. Hummel. A lot. It's taken him a while to realize and act on his feelings, but I know that those feelings are serious and real."

Burt pursed his lips. "And what, exactly, is he doing in my son's bed?"

"He appears to be sleeping," said David. Burt glared at him. "And I mean that in the most innocent way possible," the African-American boy added hurriedly.

Burt grunted and turned his attention back to the over-full bed. "Blaine. Blaine. _Blaine Anderson._"

Blaine stirred and mumbled something incoherent, his eyelids flickering. Burt cleared his throat loudly. Blaine's eyes opened fully and he yawned and stretched, blinking in a disoriented manner. "Huh?"

He blinked again and brought the room into focus, taking in his newly arrived audience. "Oh!" He shot up so fast that he banged the back of his head on the headboard. "Mr. Hummel! I-uh…"

"Would you like to explain?" said Burt.

Blaine colored. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Yes."

Blaine ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to. I just came to sing Kurt a song I wrote him and the he was awake and—oh!" He realized suddenly that he was still in the bed with Kurt and quickly scrambled out. "Oh God. I'm so sorry. I just—I was so—I didn't mean—"

Burt's expression grudgingly softened as he watched the boy flounder. "What exactly is your relationship with my son, Blaine?"

Blaine paused mid-ramble and hesitated. "Um…I think…I mean… We didn't really get that far, but I'd like to be his boyfriend if—" he swallowed, "if he'll have me."

"And how far did you get exactly?"

"Not—not that!" said Blaine, horrified. "Not anything! I just…I was so relieved to see him awake… Mr. Hummel," said Blaine, swallowing again. "I _really_ care about Kurt. I honestly think I'm in love with him."

Burt looked at him hard. "You're a bit young to be making those kinds of decisions, aren't you?"

Blaine ran a hand through his hair once more. "I know, and believe me, it scares me to death, but I can't deny how I feel about Kurt. I know this isn't what you want to hear—"

"No," Burt cut him off, "it's not what I want to hear. But it's what Kurt wants to hear. And I want him to be happy. I just hope you're good enough for him."

"I'll try my very best to be," said Blaine fervently.

Kurt stirred on the bed behind him and immediately all the attention in the room zeroed in on the ailing boy.

"Blaine?"

"I'm here, hon," said Blaine, touching Kurt's cheek with the back of his hand.

"Why'd you leave?" said Kurt without opening his eyes. "'S cold…"

"We have company," said Blaine.

Kurt opened his eyes. "Dad…" He looked at his father and then shot a glance at Blaine.

"He knows," said Blaine.

"So I didn't dream it?" asked Kurt.

Blaine smiled and reached over to ruffle Kurt's hair. "No, baby, you didn't dream it."

Kurt let out a half-hearted sound of protest, but leaned into Blaine's hand when the older boy moved it briefly back to his cheek. "I hope my dad didn't threaten you."

"Not badly," said Blaine with a small smile.

"_Dad!"_ Kurt coughed and Blaine, Burt, and Finn all started toward the bed.

Kurt waved them off. "I'm fine. Just thirsty."

Immediately Finn went to the sink to fill a cup which he handed to Blaine, who handed it to Kurt, supporting him with a hand on his back as he drank it.

"Thanks…"

"How are you feeling, babe?" asked Blaine as Burt pressed a hand to Kurt's forehead.

"You've still got something of a fever, kid."

Kurt shrugged and nuzzled his face into Blaine's shoulder. "I'm alright… I do feel kind of crummy though."

"Do you want me to leave?" asked Blaine.

Kurt shook his head. "No! I mean…please don't go."

Blaine smiled and kissed the top of Kurt's head. "Shhh. I wouldn't dream of it."

Kurt snuggled up to Blaine; he was warm and comforting and wonderful and had told him he _loved_ him… "Mmmm…"

His father shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Blaine drew away slightly.

"Another time, okay, baby?"

Kurt nodded reluctantly.

Wes and David stepped forward.

"Hi, Kurt."

"Hey, man."

"Hi, guys," said Kurt, smiling wanly, then, "God, I look awful!"

Wes and David laughed.

"We're just glad you're awake," said David.

"Yeah, Blaine's not the only one who's been worried about you."

Kurt smiled again as the two leaned down to hug him. "Thanks guys. I appreciate it."

"Any time," said Wes.

"Only hopefully not," said David.

"We should let Kurt get some rest," said Carole. "Alone," she added, looking at Blaine.

He nodded. "I'll see you later, Kurt, I promise," he said, pressing his lips to the other boy's overwarm forehead.

"Okay…" Kurt squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry I worried you. All of you," he added.

"Dude," said Finn, "it's not your fault."

"If I hadn't—"

"_Shhh,"_ said everyone else at once.

Kurt giggled. "I love you guys. Blaine?"

"Yes baby?"

"I don't want you to leave."

Blaine knelt beside his bed. "I think I should give your dad some time with you, okay? I won't go far and I'll be back soon."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck. "Okay… I love you."

Blaine smiled and gave Kurt a gentle squeeze. "I love you too, Kurt," he whispered. "Feel better."

"I'll try."

Blaine gave Kurt a last peck on the cheek, under the watchful eye of Burt, and stood and left the room.

"Dad?" said Kurt, pulling his father's attention off of the retreating boy.

"Yes, bud?"

"You don't hate Blaine, do you?"

"No," said Burt, patting his son on the shoulder, "I don't hate him."

"Good. Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Can you stay until I fall asleep again?"

Burt smiled tenderly. "Of course I can, kiddo."

The rest of them followed Blaine out of the room and Kurt lay down and closed his eyes once more, his hand finding his father's as he drifted off.

**AN:****Awwww, Blaine is so adorable, I love him. And so does Kurt, obviously ;)**

**And someone _finally _called Shelby on her shameless flirting, lol.**

**I also love reviews, so keep 'em coming.**

**-SQ**


	22. Chapter 22: Interrogations

**Author's Note: So I finally finished writing this on Thursday, but I didn't get it all the way typed because I watched the _Glee_ _Concert Movie_ instead, which I didn't see in theatres because I am opposed to 3D. Then I had it typed but had no internet access to post because I was staying in my friend in Long Island over the weekend and I never got myself hooked up to her internet; I was rather busy going backstage at the Gershwin Theatre (where _Wicked_ is playing) and seeing _How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying_. No backstage connections there, but still totally awesome ;)**

**Now I'm on my way back to school, on a bus that has wifi, so here is the chapter.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I spent all my Christmas money on music, the _Glee Concert Movie_, my Hufflepuff water bottle, and the exorbitantly priced food in NYC; there was none left over for the rights to _Glee_.**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Interrogations**

Finn left Kurt's hospital room with Wes and David and followed the two into the lobby. He didn't know the older boys that well, in fact he hardly knew them at all, but it was that or hang out with his mom.

They rounded the corner and Wes snorted.

"What?" asked David. Wes pointed. David followed the line of Wes's finger with his eyes and then shook his head. "Doesn't lose any time, that one, does she?"

"So, is your friend okay?" Shelby was asking, as she leaned toward Blaine across the desk and twirled a lock of hair around her index finger.

"Yeah…" said Blaine, looking dreamily at a spot on the wall behind her. "He's gonna be okay. He's _awake_." He grinned and actually _wriggled_ like an excited puppy dog, eliciting another snort from Wes.

David groaned. "We' better go save him before he gets himself in trouble."

"I suppose," said Wes, sounding as though he was sad to have to miss the show.

He and David marched up on either side of Blaine and grabbed him by the elbows.

"Come on, big boy," said David, steering Blaine away from the receptionist's desk, "let's go to lunch."

"Bye, Blaine!" called Shelby, leaning even farther forward over the desk to wave at his retreating back.

"Bye," said Blaine distractedly as Wes and David tugged him into the elevator, Finn following bemusedly behind. "Guys, what are you doing?"

"Saving you," said Wes.

"Saving me?" said Blaine. "From what?"

"From yourself," said David, "as usual."

"Huh?"

"Blaine," said Wes, "your obliviousness is adorable, but Kurt might not find it quite as endearing in this instance."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dude," said Finn. "That girl was totally flirting with you."

Blaine blinked. "Wha-at?"

Wes and David nodded.

"And you didn't appear to be doing anything to rebuff her advances," said David.

"But…but…I wasn't…I didn't…I didn't know…"

"That much," said Wes dryly, "is obvious."

Blaine's cheeks darkened. "What—what am I supposed to do?" he said, waving his hands unconsciously in a flustered manner. "I didn't—I'm awful at this kind of thing. And I'm _gay_. And Kurt—"

Was and Finn burst out laughing while David managed to keep a straight face long enough to say. "Well, you could start by not flirting back."

"I _wasn't_!" said Blaine, equal part horrified and indignant.

"I hate to break it to you," said David, "but you kind of flit with everyone. It's, like, part of your genetic makeup or something."

"Well, when you're not getting defensive or shutting yourself off," Wes put in.

Blaine knuckled his eyes. "God…I can't _deal_ with this right now…"

His two friends put their arms around his shoulders.

"Hey," said David. "We've got your back. Everything's gonna be fine. Let's go to lunch."

"During which the stepbrother can have a nice little talk with the boy who is soon going to be dating his baby brother," said Wes, looking between Finn and Blaine with a smirk.

The Asian boy was half his size, and his words shouldn't have been particularly threatening, but Finn still felt the need urge to swallow at the look in the Warbler's eyes.

*****AM*****

Kurt slept for another two hours before waking up again. His father was immediately alert as soon as he felt Kurt move. "How are you feeling, buddy?"

Kurt smiled at his father and sat up, wincing as the action caused his head to pulse painfully. "My head hurts, but I'll be alright." He cleared his throat. That hurt too. "How long did I sleep?"

"About two hours."

Kurt nodded. His head throbbed.

"Kurt," said Burt after a moment, "I have a question to ask you, if you're up to answering."

Kurt nodded again, more gently this time, as though he had been expecting this, which he had. "About Blaine?"

"Yes."

"I love him, dad?"

Burt was slightly taken about by this simple statement. "Kid, you're awfully young to—"

"I know how young I am," said Kurt almost snappishly. "I know it's stupid to be in love with someone when you're not even out of high school. But I can't help it. And I'm going to be with him whether you say I can or not," he added defiantly, chin jutting out as he looked up at his father.

Burt considered for a moment. "I know," he said at last. "And I'm not going to stop you. I just want you to be sure, I want both of you to be sure. That boy obviously cares about you a lot. I saw that today and I've seen it before. And I know you've been crazy about him since you met him. Anyone with half a brain could see that. But you have a tendency to…rush headlong into things without considering the consequences

"I'm not rushing headlong into this," said Kurt. "I have been waiting for _ages_, hoping Blaine would see me as more than a friend. I didn't go after him because I didn't want to risk losing that friendship."

"I know, Kurt," said Burt carefully. "I just want to make sure you know that declarations of love aren't something to be taken lightly, in spite of the crap that's all over our TV screens today."

Kurt smiled. "Well, I was always more of a live theatre kind of guy anyway."

Burt smiled too, but said, "Real life isn't like a musical, son. It's complicated and messy and sometimes it's wonderful, but other times it hurts like hell."

"I know, dad," said Kurt.

"I just want to make sure you're ready for it."

Kurt opened his mouth, ready to make an exasperated and defensive retort, but then hesitated and said instead, "well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

*****AM*****

Blaine, Finn, Wes, and David slid into a group of empty seats in the hospital cafeteria with their freshly laden trays.

"So," said Wes, "Finn, how well do you know Blaine?"

"Um," said Finn. He was tempted to say 'better than I know you' but instead he said, "Not that well. I mean, we've met and talked and stuff."

"And exchanged numbers," said Wes.

"Yeah—hey!" said Finn. "You were the guy on the phone!"

"Yep," said Wes cheerfully.

"For the record, I didn't ask him to call you," said Blaine, leaning around David and Wes. "He stole my phone."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," said Finn, grinning. "'S ok though. It was good of you to come."

"_Anyway,"_ said Wes loudly. "I want us all to be the best of pals, so let's get this out of the way shall we?" He paused expectantly, and when nobody did anything he turned to the quarterback, "Finn," he said, fingers steepled on the table in front of him, "this would be where you threaten Blaine with intense physical and psychological harm if he ever hurts a hair on Kurt's head."

"Hairs don't have nerve endings," coughed David. Then, "Ouch!" he said as Wes smacked him.

Finn looked at Blaine, unsure of what to say. He certainly had no inclination to hurt the other boy, or any reason to believe that Blaine would hurt Kurt, physically or psychologically (whatever that meant). "Are you really in love with Kurt?" he found himself blurting, then immediately blushed.

Blaine, too, colored, but said firmly, "Yes. There are a lot of things I am less than sure of, but that isn't one of them. And the _last_ thing I want to do is hurt him."

Finn grinned his lopsided grin. "So then we're cool, dude?"

Blaine smiled back. "Yeah, we're cool."

Finn held his fist out across the table. Blaine reached over and bumped it with his own.

"Well, that was anti-climactic," said Wes, looking disappointed. "Ow! David!"

**AN: Watched the _Glee Concert Movie_, realized Wes didn't go on tour, was upset, remembered (again) that Wes and David are actually not very important in the real show. (Which comes back on tomorrow! :D)**

**I stopped here I my longhanding because it felt like the end of the chapter, then I decided it was too short and wrote some more, but when I went back over it I still ended up cutting it off here because it really wanted to be the end of the chapter and did meet my minimum requirement of 1000 words.**

**Thanks for reading. Reviews=smiles! (& replies if you're logged in & accept PMs)**

**-SQ**


	23. Chapter 23: Hopeless Romantic

**Author's Note: *sigh* life has an annoying way of getting in the way of updates :P Ah well, here it is now, not nearly as late as some of my other stories.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Means what it says**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Hopeless Romantic**

Carole came and found them in the gift shop, where the clerk had been shooting the four of them suspicious looks for the past fifteen minutes.

"There you are."

Blaine and Finn turned around at once, almost knocking over a display featuring little glass angels with birthstones set into their halos. The clerk gave them a dirty look.

"How is he?" the demanded in unison.

Carole chuckled. "He's just fine. Still has a slight fever, but that's to be expected." She looked at Blaine. "He's asking for you."

"Can I see him?" asked Blaine. "Is that…okay with his dad?"

Carole smiled. "It's fine. I'll let you in on a little secret, Blaine: Burt isn't nearly as scary as he makes out to be. Underneath that gruff exterior he's really an old softie."

"Unless someone threatens Kurt," said Finn, remembering all too well his own experiences both witnessing and being the object of Burt's Papa Bear temper.

"True," said Carole. "Or you or me, I'm sure. But as I hardly think causing harm to any of us is on Blaine's immediate agenda, he should be safe for now."

Wes and David slapped Blaine on the back.

"Hear that, Blaine?" said David. "We won't have to plan your funeral today after all."

Blaine scowled at them.

"Come on," said Wes. "Wouldn't want to keep your lover-boy waiting."

Blaine groaned. "Guys, his stepmother is in the room! Sorry, Mrs. Hudson-Hummel, they have _no_ manners." He turned to Finn, mouthing, "Escape while you can!"

"Oh no," said Wes cheerfully, capturing the bigger boy by the elbow. "There is no escape."

"Uh-oh," said David, shaking his head ruefully. "Looks like you're one of us now."

"Isn't that called, like, frat—frot—froot—getting too friendly with the enemy?" said Finn.

"You're Kurt's brother," said Wes, as though this explained everything, "so it doesn't count."

"Oh," said Finn. "Well, I guess that's okay then."

Blaine just shook his head and focused on avoiding Shelby's eye as they walked back through the lobby.

*****AM*****

Kurt was sitting up in bed when Blaine, Finn, Wes, and David entered the room. His normally porcelain complexion was so white as to resemble a ghost, and his cheeks were still tinged with the blush of fever, but the grayish cast that had lingered over his skin during the past few days was gone and he was smiling.

"Did you sleep well," asked Blaine, his chest going all funny as he looked at the boy on the bed.

Kurt almost nodded, but, remembering at the last moment that it would hurt his head, said, "Yes," instead.

"That's good," said Finn. "Do you feel any better?"

"A little," said Kurt. "My head still hurts, but the nurse just gave me something for it, so it should feel better soon."

A wash of guilt went through Blaine as he looked at the white bandage wrapped around his head. "Is it permanent?" He touched the fabric.

"What?" said Kurt. "The bandage?"

"No, the injury."

"No," said Kurt. "I mean, I probably shouldn't rejoin the football team, but…"

"I tried to catch you," said Blaine. He sat down on the edge of the bed so that their legs were touching. "But I wasn't fast enough."

Kurt's eyebrows rose toward the bandage obscuring his hairline. "You tried to catch me?" He looked at Wes and David for conformation.

"Uh-huh," said David, nodding.

"How romantic," said Kurt, grinning.

"It was," agreed Wes. "He slid across the floor on his knees."

"He did?" Kurt laughed delightedly, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Oh, Blaine! You _are_ romantic!"

"But I missed!" protested Blaine.

"It's the thought that counts."

"Not when it's your head at stake!"

Kurt tugged Blaine toward him and pecked him on the lips. "I love you."

"Kurt, everyone's here, you're dad…"

"Blaine, I'm sick and in pain and madly in love with you. Just kiss me!"

Blaine glanced uncertainly up at Burt and the others.

"Kiss him!" said Wes, David, and Finn.

"You'd better do what the boy says," said Burt seriously, restraining a smile.

Carole winked at Blaine.

Blaine knelt on the edge of the bed, took Kurt's face gently between his hands, and molded their lips together for several blissful seconds. Kurt's heart fluttered, the air suddenly having difficulty entering his lungs and reaching his brain. Blaine was kissing him. He could barely believe it. _Blaine_ was _kissing_ him.

"You haven't said you love me too," Kurt murmured breathlessly, as they drew apart and the three teenagers behind them burst into applause.

"Of course I love you," said Blaine, gently but earnestly once he could be heard again. "I love you more than I thought was possible. When you fell—" He swallowed.

Kurt laid a finger against his lips. "Shhh. I'm alright."

Blaine sat down beside Kurt once more. "Carole said you were asking for me."

"That makes me sound so needy," Kurt whined. "I just wanted to make sure my dad hadn't scared you off the premises," he teased.

Blaine smiled. "He is pretty intimidating," he admitted.

Kurt lifted an eyebrow at his father, who shrugged. "He promises to behave himself if you do," he said to Blaine.

"I'll be a perfect angel," promised Blaine. Wes and David snorted. Blaine shot them a dirty look. "Just as long as you stay healthy."

"Trust me," said Kurt, "that _is_ the plan."

Somewhere outside the room a clock chimed.

"I'm afraid that's our cue to leave," said David. "I don't think the hospital would be very pleased with us if we stayed past visiting hours."

"Especially since _some_ of us didn't arrive in a recognized manner to begin with," added Wes, smirking.

Blaine colored. The others laughed. Kurt looked confused.

"What are you talking about."

"I don't know, Blaine," said Wes, still smirking. "What _am_ I talking about?"

"Oh, shut up," said Blaine, who was now bright red. He turned back to Kurt. "I might have, kind of, well…snuck in here to see you."

Kurt blinked at him a couple of times and then started to giggle.

"What's so funny?" asked Blaine.

"You—you try to—to catch—me—when—when I fall" said Kurt, his giggles building momentum. "And—and then—then you—you _s-sneak_ into—the—the hospital—to—to—sing me—a—a love song?"

"I didn't sneak into the hospital," protested Blaine. "Just into your room."

"Blaine Anderson, the next time someone accuses _me_ of being a hopeless romantic…"

"Well if you didn't like it—" said Blaine huffily.

"Oh, come on," said Kurt tugging on Blaine's hand, "don't pout. You know I loved it. I would have done the same for you."

"Really?" said Blaine, feeling his insides go mushy.

"Well, no," said Kurt. "Because I don't write music or play the guitar and I probably wouldn't have been brave enough to confess my undying love for you without any prompting."

"Without any prompting, are you kidding?" said Blaine. "You're ten times braver than I am. I only told you like I did because you took me by surprise and because Finn, Wes, and David had _promised_ me you felt the same way. And then I nearly had a heart attack when I thought they had been mistaken."

"I assure you, they were not mistaken," said Kurt, smiling and playing with Blaine's fingers.

"I hate to break up this little love-fest," said David. "But, as I said, it's past visiting hours…"

Blaine stood regretfully. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay, Kurt? As soon as my classes are over—"

David coughed. "Homework, Blaine."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Kurt's more important."

"We don't deny that," said Wes, but Kurt won't die while you look after your grades.

"Too soon, Wes," said David, frowning.

"No, David, Wes's right," said Kurt. "Blaine, don't fall behind on your work because of me."

"Then I'll bring it here, I can start catching you up on what you've missed."

"Joy," said Kurt.

Blaine bent down and gave him a tight hug. "I love you. I'm so glad you're alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

Kurt hugged him back. "I love you too. I can't believe that I get to say that to you."

"Feel free to say it as often as you like," chuckled Blaine.

Kurt bopped him on the head. "Careful, or that curly head of yours won't fit through the door."

Blaine stuck his tongue out at the other boy.

"I can think of a better use for that," said Kurt cheekily.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Kurt!" he hissed. "Did you just—Your _dad_'s in the room!"

"Oooh! Now who's blushing?" said Kurt delightedly.

Blaine glowered at him. "You're lucky I love you so much."

"I know," said Kurt sweetly.

Blaine kissed Kurt on the forehead. "Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt smiled sleepily up at him. "'Night, Blaine. Sweet dreams."

Blaine chuckled. "I certainly have a better chance of that now than I did a couple days ago."

He straightened and followed Wes and David out of the room.

"Wait!" called Finn. Blaine turned. "Dude, don't forget your guitar."

"Oh," said Blaine, who had indeed forgotten all about the instrument. "Thanks."

"Is it damaged?" asked Kurt anxiously. "You kind of chucked it."

Blaine inspected the instrument. "Miraculously, I don't think it is." He slung the guitar over his back and left the room. As he glanced back one last time, he saw Finn take his place on the bed, allowing his stepbrother to lean his bandaged head against his broad shoulder.

"Kurt's a lucky guy," said David.

"Yeah, he has Finn to make up for having Blaine in his life," said Wes.

David rolled his eyes. "Pay no attention to the man behind the ego."

"Ignoring Blaine isn't very nice."

"That is _not_ what I mean and you know it—"

"Hi, Blaine."

Blaine looked up and found himself face-to-face with Shelby the receptionist.

"Oh, uh, hi."

"Hi." Shelby smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Are you leaving?"

"Uh…yeah," said Blaine, fidgeting uncomfortably. "End of visiting hours."

"You could stay out here and keep me company," said Shelby coyly. "It gets pretty lonely here after visiting hours end."

"Uh…" said Blaine, wishing he was anywhere but there.

"I only have an hour left until I'm off," Shelby continued. "I know this little coffee shop that's open late—"

"Uh, um, no I—I have to—to go," stammered Blaine hurriedly. "Bye!" He practically ran toward the elevator.

Wes and David followed him, and as soon as the doors shut behind them they burst out laughing.

"Oh God—Blaine—you should have seen your face…"

"You are the most hopeless person…"

"I didn't know what to do!" said Blaine defensively. "She was flirting with me! She was—she was practically asking me out!"

"Blaine," said David, "she _was _asking you out."

"And girls flirt with you _all the time_," said Wes.

Blaine gave him an incredulous look.

Wes and David looked at each other.

"He really doesn't know, does he?" said Wes.

"Know what?" asked Blaine

David shook his head. "I think I'll leave it up to Kurt to enlighten him."

"Guys, _what_ are you talking about?" said Blaine. "What don't I know?"

"Blaine," said Wes seriously. "Are you aware that you are one of the best-looking guys at Dalton?"

"Excuse me?"

"In layman terms, Blaine," said David, "you're hot."

If Blaine had had anything in his mouth, he would have choked on in. _"Excuse me?"_

"Believe me," said David dryly, "it's as weird for me to say as for you to hear. But it's true. Your hair, your charm, your charisma, your body, your face, your slight air of mystery…you've been turning the heads of girls and guys alike for years."

Blaine shook his head. "But—but I'm not—I'm _short_!"

"A minor drawback," said Wes, shrugging.

"You haven't even _known_ me for years!"

"Irrelevant."

"Are you telling me that Shelley likes be because of how I look?"

Well, she's hardly gotten a good picture of your personality," said David.

"Wait," said Blaine, "is that why Kurt likes me too?"

Wes rolled his eyes. "Do you really think Kurt is that shallow? I'm sure your looks don't _hurt_ matters, but Kurt likes _you_. In fact, he _loves_ you."

The three of them crossed the parking lot toward Wes's car.

"Blaine," said David, "are you okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes…I-I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm just…thinking."

David rubbed his friend's shoulder. "Hey, you're I love! You should be turning somersaults with joy."

Blaine turned his head and smiled. "I am, well, internally at least. I just…can't jump into this blindly, you know?"

"You're not thinking or backing out, are you?" said Wes threateningly. "After all the trouble we went through to get you together?"

"No!" said Blaine. "No. I just…need to figure out the best way to go about this."

"You'll figure it out," said David confidently, as Wes started the car.

"We believe in you," said Wes.

"Thank you, Mr. Corny," said David.

Blaine smiled, his eyes straying to the window as he became lost in his own thoughts.

**AN: Goodness! I added an entire section of dialogue when I transferred this from page to screen. The whole part where Kurt finds out that Blaine snuck in to see him.**

**I know some of you might not have seen the new episode, so all I will say is: It rocked! So many awesome songs (how could they not be, it's MJ), but I have to say "Smooth Criminal" was my favorite. And the end of "Bad"—Poor Blaine!**

**Also, I AM SO PROUD TO BE FROM WASHINGTON STATE RIGHT NOW!**

**That is all,**

**Reviews are most welcome,**

**-SQ**


	24. Chapter 24: Mirrors and Pillow Fights

**Author's Note: I am obviously interested in entirely too many things to do anything in a timely manner. When I should be writing my _Artemis Fowl_ fanfic I am reading _Glee_ fanfics, when I should be writing my _Glee _fanfics I am messing around on _Harry Potter _facebook pages, when I should be trial-admining on said facebook pages, I am watching _Bones_, and when I should be watching _Bones_ I am reading blogs supposedly written by _Artemis Fowl_ characters.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: And, no, I _still_ don't own _Glee_. I highly doubt that I ever will.**

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Mirrors and Pillow Fights, or The Roommate of the Year Award**

The rest of the school was at dinner when Blaine, Wes, and David arrived back on campus. All of them having eaten the hospital, they continued straight up to their rooms. By unspoken agreement Blaine retuned to the older boys' to collect his things before returning to his room.

Blaine entered his room and dropped his things onto his bed. God, this been a long day. A good day—a _great_ day—but an incredibly long one.

Blaine walked past the open bathroom door and, catching sight of himself in the mirror, stopped and approached his reflection. He tilted his head, considering the image. Puzzled hazel eyes looked back at him. Was he really that attractive? He tugged at his gelled-down curls, making a face at himself in the mirror.

"They're insane," he said, shaking his head at his reflection. "I'm just a goofy-looking midget. Who would ever be attracted to me?"

_Shelby_, said a voice in his head. _And Kurt. Kurt is attracted to you. For some wild, nonsensical reason Kurt is attracted to you._ His chest tightened and a fluttery feeling rose in his stomach.

The bedroom door opened and then closed and Sean's voice called out, "Blaine? Are you here?"

Blaine stepped out of the bathroom into the main room. "Yeah. I'm here."

Sean looked over at him, taking in the light in his eyes and the smile playing around his lips. "Someone looks happy. Where were you today? You missed Chemistry."

"I missed all my afternoon classes," said Blaine, sounding not at all concerned about this fact, unusual for the normally studious Warbler. "I was at the hospital." A grin broke out over face. "Sean, he's awake, he's okay, he's _awake_!"

Sean's eyes widened. "Kurt?" Blaine nodded. "Oh, Blaine, that's wonderful!"

Blaine nodded again, still grinning.

"Oh my God, Blaine…" Sean grinned back in genuine happiness and relief. "He's okay?" Blaine nodded. "I'm so glad. Would it be weird if I were to hug you right now?"

Blaine laughed and shook his head. Sean wrapped the smaller boy in a bear hug.

"I'm so sorry about the hell I've put you through for the last few days," said Blaine, hugging his roommate back. "You definitely win the roommate of the year award."

"Quite a turnaround from cussing me out and trying to beat me up," chuckled Sean. "I'll hold you to that promise." He let go of Blaine. "Really though, don't worry about it. I certainly know you better than I did a few days ago."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure that's a good thing."

"I think it is. Okay, okay," said Sean, throwing up his hands. "Enough with the sentimental crap. This is great news, man." He sat down at his desk. "The question begs to be asked, though: Does he know how you feel yet?"

"Well, considering the first thing I did when I realized he was awake was kiss him senseless, yeah, I think he knows."

Sean let out a bark of laughter. "You didn't!"

"I did," said Blaine ruefully. "Needless to say, it was quite a shock for him."

"But a pleasant one," said Sean smirking.

"I'd like to think so," said Blaine, also smiling. He sat down at his own desk and turned to face Sean. "Apparently he's liked me since we met."

"Shocking," said Sean sarcastically.

Blaine stuck out his tongue at his roommate. "How come everyone knew but me?"

"Because you're oblivious?" said Sean, leaning back in his chair.

"Apparently…" Blaine rubbed his face. "Is it possible for someone to be elated and terrified about the same thing at the same time?"

"Obviously it is," said Sean, "if that's how you're feeling. I'd even venture to say it's normal under the circumstances."

"I just…I don't know how to do this." said Blaine. "A year and a half ago I was a closed off, defensive, paranoid mess, now I'm trying to have a relationship? Am I insane?"

"I think everyone who's in love is a little bit insane," answered Sean. He put his feet up on his desk. "Relax, Blaine. He's conscious and you both know how you feel about each other. That's a pretty good start, don't you think?"

Blaine chuckled. "You're so practical. To think I tried to get out of having a roommate this year."

"What?" said Sean, effecting a wounded expression. "You didn't want me?"

"Well, I didn't exactly have a great roommate experience last year," said Blaine.

"Touché."

Blaine fiddled with the edge of a stack of papers on his desk, tracing the grain of the wood in time with his thoughts.

Sean had opened his bag and pulled out his homework when Blaine spoke again. "Sean, do you want to come with me to visit Kurt in the hospital after classes tomorrow?"

Sean looked over at him in surprise. "Are you sure? Don't you want to have some time alone with him? I can't imagine you got very much of that today."

"No," admitted Blaine, "I didn't. But I thought you might like to see him. I mean, I know you don't actually know him that well…so I don't know what you'd really have to say, but… You know what, just forget I said anything—"

"I'd love to go," interrupted Sean. "Thanks."

Blaine smiled. "No problem. It's the least I can do after punching you in the face."

"Eh," said Sean, shrugging. "I play sports. I've had worse."

"Sean, you run track."

"Yeah, well, sometimes you fall down."

Blaine snorted. "Honestly?"

"Let's just say that my first experience with vaulting didn't go quite as planned."

"Wait," said Blaine, "that was _you_?"

"Sean Wittinger, in the flesh."

"That was in the school paper!" said Blaine. "The pole-vaulter who fell during the first meet of the season last year and fractured both his shins. I can't believe I didn't realize that was you!"

"Yep," said Sean cheerfully. "That was me. Had to have surgery on both my legs. Couldn't run for the rest of the year."

"Ouch," said Blaine, wincing.

"Tell me about it," said Sean. Suddenly he laughed.

"What?" said Blaine in confusion.

"Finally _you_ get to learn something exciting about _me_."

"We really need to re-examine our definition of exciting," said Blaine, rocking back in his chair. "What happened to exciting vacations or exciting soccer game wins?"

"Well," said Sean slyly, "falling desperately in love is pretty exciting."

"Oh shut up," said Blaine, grabbing a pillow off his bed and throwing it at his roommate's head.

Sean was forced to put his hands, which he had clapped dramatically to his chest, above his head to shield himself.

"Hey! Careful with that! You'll break something!"

Blaine snorted. "Surely the great track hero isn't afraid of a little feather pillow."

"I didn't mean me, you idiot," said Sean. "I meant the stuff on my desk." He picked up the pillow from where it had fallen on the floor and launched it back across the room, hitting Blaine in the chest.

"Oof! Hey!"

Sean just smirked.

"Alright, alright," said Blaine. "Let's not start a pillow fight."

"Excuse me, _who's_ starting a pillow fight?"

"I see I'm going to have to be the mature one here," said Blaine, placing his pillow back on his bed and pulling his schoolbag toward him. "Come on and tell me what I missed today in Chemistry."

**AN: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know it wasn't very long, but the next part is Blaine & Sean visiting the hospital and that deserves its own chapter.**

**Lovely reviews from lovely people are lovely ;)**

**-SQ**


	25. Revelations, Accusations, Explanations

**Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know you're all wondering where the hell I've been. This past week was Spring Break, which _seems_ conducive to writing, but is really just conducive to goofing off. I actually spent most of my break glued to my PMs forming a partnership with another author on this site. We now have an account together, Crazy-Minds-Think-Alike, and have posted the first chapter on an Al/Scor next gen HP fic. I also managed to get her to start watching _Glee_ & AVPM, so not a break totally wasted, eh? Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Hasn't changed**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Revelations, Accusations, Explanations**

*Rap rap _rap rap rap_. Rap rap*

Kurt looked up from his magazine.

"Hello, beautiful."

"Blaine!"

Blaine grinned and went to give Kurt a hug. "I told you I'd come today."

"I know. I'm happy to see you anyway."

"I'm happy to see you, too."

"Awwww," said a sarcastic voice from the doorway. "How adorably sickening. I should have brought my camera."

Kurt looked back toward the doorway. "Sean!"

"Hey, Kurt." The tall boy pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning and came over to join Blaine by Kurt's bed. "How are you?"

"A lot better," said Kurt, "thanks." He pushed himself up higher on his pillows and then frowned. "What happened to your cheek?"

"Huh?"

"Your cheek, it's all bruised. It wasn't like that a few days ago. What happened?"

Sean and Blaine traded uncomfortable looks.

"I, um…" said Sean.

"It looks like someone hit you," said Kurt, a touch of indignation in his voice. "Did you get in a fight?"

"In a manner of speaking…"

"What do you mean, 'in a manner of speaking'? What manner of speaking? Sean? Blaine?"

Blaine sighed. "It was me."

"Blaine, don't—"

"What am I going to do, lie to him?" He turned to face Kurt straight on. "After you collapsed and were admitted to the hospital I was pretty shaken up, close to hysterical. I was keeping it together, barely, but when Sean came in and told me he'd known you were still sick, had helped you pretend to be okay, to trick me…I lost it."

"What do you mean, 'lost it'?" asked Kurt slowly.

"It's not important," said Sean.

"I attacked him," said Blaine, as though Sean hadn't spoken. I probably would have put him in the hospital if Wes and David hadn't pulled me off.

Kurt looked at Blaine in horror. "You _attacked_ him for giving me _ibuprofen_?"

"It wasn't just that…" Blaine took Kurt's hand. "It was—it was…"

"It was what?" snapped Kurt, pulling his hand away. "A flight of passion? I don't need you to beat people up for me, Blaine! Enough of that kind of thing went on at McKinley! Why—why would you do something like that?"

"I don't know," said Blaine in frustration. "When this stuff happens—"

"'When this stuff happens'?" echoed Kurt. "_'When this stuff happens'_? How often does 'this stuff' happen, Blaine? Do you make a habit of beating people up behind my back? This is what I came to Dalton to get _away_ from."

A lump rose in Blaine's throat, stoppering his breath, choking him.

"Kurt," said Sean. "Kurt, listen to me."

Kurt shook his head, looking at Blaine with an expression of incomprehension. "All this stuff about hating violence, about being the bigger man…"

"Kurt—"

Blaine tried to say something, but he couldn't breathe, tears filled his eyes and he couldn't see…

"What else have you been keeping from me? Lying about?"

"Kurt—"

"I thought I knew you. Who are you? !"

"Kurt!"

Finally Kurt looked up at the tall boy with the golden-brown curls. "What?" he snapped.

Sean pointed at Blaine.

The boy was curled into himself on the bed, rocking back and forth, and almost keening sound coming from his lips. He was trembling uncontrollably.

Kurt's heart skipped a beat. Something was very wrong.

"He's having a panic attack," said Sean, trying very hard not to freak out himself.

"A-a what?" said Kurt

"I'm calling Wes and David," said Sean, pulling out his phone. "Don't touch him," he added as Kurt reached out his hand toward Blaine.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what he'll do."

Kurt watched, helpless, as the boy he was in love with rocked and shook and whimpered in front of him.

"David? We're at the hospital. Blaine's having a panic attack."

"_Shit."_ There was a brief, muffled exchange, as though David had put his hand over the telephone receiver. "Try to calm him down. We're on our way."

Sean ended the call and looked back over at Blaine and Kurt. Kurt had tears streaming down his cheeks and, despite Sean's warning, was rubbing Blaine's shoulder and saying over and over again, "Blaine, baby, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry, Blaine, please, I'm sorry…"

*****BB*****

Wes and David must have driven like madmen to get there, because it was barely ten minutes later when they came bursting through the hospital room door, panting heavily.

Wes took a still-crying Kurt aside while David knelt in front of Blaine on the bed and took his hands.

"Blaine," he said calmly, keeping his voice level and his tone even. "Blaine, it's David. Blaine, look at me. Blaine, you're okay. You're with Kurt at the hospital. Blaine. _Blaine._"

"What's wrong with him?" said Kurt. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He's going to be just fine," Wes reassured him. "Do you have any idea what triggered this?"

Kurt swallowed and nodded. "I was yelling at him… He _attacked_ Sean, Wes, because he gave me _Ibuprofen_.

Wes groaned. "When I said you were going to have to find you, this _isn't_ what I had in mind."

"Find out what?"

"Kurt," said Wes seriously, a rarity in of itself outside of Warbler rehearsals, "how much has Blaine told you about his life before he met you?"

"I know he was bullied before he got to Dalton," said Kurt, realizing that this was pretty much the extend of what he knew about Blaine's past.

Wes snorted.

"What?"

"That's putting it mildly. Look," he said, "Blaine went through a lot of crap before he got to the point he as at when he met you."

"What kind of crap?"

"He's going to have to tell you that himself," said Wes. "I hope you'll give him that chance."

Meanwhile, David had succeeded in calming Blaine's panic attack. "Kurt," he said softly.

Kurt turned toward David's voice and was met by Blaine's shining hazel eyes.

"Oh Blaine, I'm sorry!" Kurt threw his arms around the other boy, who hugged him back. "Are you okay?" asked Kurt, meeting Blaine's eyes squarely with his own.

"Shhh," murmured Blaine. "You're sick, lie back down."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Lie down."

"You scared me."

"I'm sorry. Kurt, please lie down."

"Don't be sorry." Kurt touched Blaine's face. "Do you often have panic attacks?"

"Not often but…sometimes. Not so much recently. Kurt, you have a head injury and a fever and I would really feel much better if you would lie down."

Kurt leaned back against Blaine. "Is that what happened when you hit Sean? You had a panic attack?"

"Kind of." Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry, Kurt. You must think I'm actually insane."

"No…" said Kurt slowly, "but obviously there's something going on here."

"I know what I did to Sean was bad," said Blaine. "I was under a lot of stress, and I know that doesn't excuse it—please believe me when I say I'm not like that anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Kurt," said Blaine, "do you—do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Of course."

"Even after—"

"_Yes."_

"Then you deserve to know the answer to your question."

"What que—?"

"Who I am."

"Blaine, I didn't mean that, I know who you are."

"Did you know I had panic attacks?"

Kurt didn't answer. He traced pattern on the back of Blaine's hand with his forefinger. Finally he said, "Why did you have a panic attack just now?"

Kurt felt Blaine's Adam's apple move against his shoulder.

"I'm kind of a wreck right now," Blaine admitted. "It's not your fault; obviously you couldn't help getting sick, and what happened just now with you was just what set me over the edge. I'm running on adrenaline; I've barely slept or eaten in days. I've been worrying about you and dealing with my own feelings...trying to get that damn song written… I've had to relieve some pretty unpleasant memories as a result of all this… I've been on an emotional roller coaster these past few days—longer than that, really. It's _hard _repressing feelings for one of your best friends." He ran his free hand over his face. "Kurt, you're one of the best things that's ever happened to me, but I'd be lying if I said knowing you these past few months hasn't brought back some difficult memories.

Kurt shifted to lean back against the headboard, puling Blaine with him. "Wes said… Wes said that there are some things that happened before I met you that I should know about."

Blaine sighed but nodded. "He's right. There are things that I…I honestly should have told you sooner. But I just couldn't bring myself—I wanted so _badly_ to leave it all in the past."

Kurt took Blaine's hand and squeezed it. "It looks like the others have decided to give us some time alone. Why don't you tell me now?"

Blaine took a breath. "O-Okay. I guess I really need to start back in seventh grade, when I first began to realize I was gay…"

**AN: I don't really have much to say here, other than I hope you'll review this chapter and check out my and Arty-the-Puppeteer's joint account, Crazy-Minds-Think-Alike. We're planning on writing for HP & _Artemis Fowl_. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-SQ**


	26. Chapter 26: The Naked Men

**Author's Note: I _promised_ myself I would get this up tonight, and here it is. I've been firmly immersed in the _Artemis Fowl_ fandom recently, but I'm learning to juggle my fandoms better. I was actually operating in all 3 (AF, HP, & Glee) at once today. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: So many reasons _Glee_ and its characters aren't mine.**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Naked Men**

"I guess I really need to start back in seventh grade, when I first began to realize I was gay…"

_Blaine Anderson hurried through the halls of Roosevelt Middle School, his backpack full of books weighing down his shoulders as he navigated his way between clumps of chatting students. Blaine was one of the oldest kids in the seventh grade, and also one of the shortest. A fact which was a constant source of frustration for the thirteen-year-old._

"_Hey, Blaine! Blaine!"_

_Blaine looked up through the crowd and saw his best friend Trevor waving to him._

"_Having a bit of trouble there, shrimp?" asked Trevor, smirking._

"_Oh, shut up," said Blaine. "Not all of us can be freakishly tall."_

"_I am not freakishly tall," said Trevor, sounding affronted. "I am a perfectly acceptable height. You're just short."_

"_Hmph," said Blaine._

_Then the bell rang and the two boys forgot their argument in their haste to get to class._

*****AM*****

"Both of my parents work full-time jobs, so I spent the first three hours after school each day at Roosevelt's After Care program.

"I didn't particularly enjoy After Care. To begin with, the name made me feel as though I were a baby in a daycare. Second, none of my friends went to the After Care program—it was all very loud boys who liked to make fart and penis jokes and obnoxious girls who already wore makeup and spent all their time talking about their celebrity crushes."

"Charming," commented Kurt.

"Tell me about it."

_Blaine was seated in a red beanbag chair, working on his math homework. Well, trying to work on his math homework. The group of girls sitting three feet away from him, giggling over a magazine, was making it just a bit difficult._

"_I stole it from my big sister," said Allison Hurty in a whisper. "She's seventeen."_

"_Ewwww!" said Lina Brady, pointing at something in the magazine that was obscured from Blaine's view by Allison's shoulder. "Why would anyone want to look at this?"_

"_You're looking at it," Chelsea Nichols pointed out._

"_Because Allison brought it!"_

"_That doesn't mean you have to look at it!"_

_Finally Blaine's curiosity got the better of him and he shut his math book, leaning sideways in the red beanbag chair to get a look at the magazine that the girls found so exciting._

_Personally, Blaine didn't see what all the fuss was about. The page showed a bottle of perfume with some kind of feathers and pearls draped around it, hardly something to be getting all—_OH_._

_Allison had just turned the page and Blaine felt as though he had been suddenly fused to the red beanbag chair._

_On the center page, taking up the entire spread, was a shamelessly smiling, completely naked man._

_Blaine felt his face go extremely hot. His palms got sweaty and he found it very hard to swallow. His pulse pounded in his ears. He couldn't stop starring. The only naked bodies he had ever seen besides his own were those of his parents and his older brother and the one-year-old girl his mother had once agreed to babysit. This man…this man was _not_ his father or his older brother. His face was incredibly handsome, with a seductive smile and blond hair which fell casually into his brilliantly blue eyes. His entire body was very well-muscled, from his broad shoulders and chest to his sculpted calves and thighs. But none of these were what had caught Blaine's attention._

_Blaine felt a rush of blood go to the corresponding area of his own anatomy, making it strain against the front of his jeans as though it had seen the freedom of its counterpart and longed for the same liberation. Without conscious decision, Blain's hand dove down into his lap, fingers wrapping around the hot, swelling—_

"_Blaine!"_

_Blaine jerked violently, topping out of the beanbag chair and scraping the tender, inflamed flesh beneath his palm with his fingernails. Mrs. Rathe, the After Care supervisor, was looking down at him, an angry expression on her splotchy face._

"_Blaine!" she said again. "That is completely inappropriate behavior! Take your hand out of your pants immediately!"_

_Blaine looked down and realized that his hand was, indeed, inside of his pants. Then he looked up and saw that the rest of the room was all looking at him._

_Blaine went bright red and snatched his hand away from his jeans, wishing he could sink down through the red beanbag chair and be swallowed up by the carpeted floor._

_Mrs. Rathe was having none of it. She grabbed Blaine's wrist and hauled him up out of the chair. "Go wash your hands. And I never want to see you doing something like that again. School is not the place for such things. It's disgusting."_

_Blaine nodded and ran to the bathroom, his entire body hot with shame, tears stinging his eyes. He washed his hands over and over again until they were wrinkled like prunes and Mrs. Rathe sent Charlie Lawrence, and eighth grader who mostly kept to himself, at least during After Care, to fetch him._

"_Hey, you, masturbation kid, Mrs. Rathe sent me to make sure you hadn't drowned in the sink or something. She wants you to come back to the room."_

_Blaine looked up at Charlie, rubbing his eyes with his dripping hands._

"_Are you crying?" asked Charlie._

"_No."_

"_Come on…what's your name? Blake or something?"_

"_Blaine."_

"_Come on, Blaine, it's not the end of the world." Charlie rolled his eyes. "Every guy masturbates. Most just have the sense not to do it in front of everybody."_

"_Master-what?"_

"_Masturbate," said Charlie, "touch yourself. Are you retarded or something?"_

"_No," said Blaine._

_Charlie rolled his eyes. "If you say so. Come on, Blaine, Mrs. Rathe wants you back in the room."_

_*****AM*****_

_When Blaine's mother came to pick him up at five-thirty, Mrs. Rathe pulled her aside. The two women talked for a minute or two and then Mrs. Anderson and Blaine left for the car._

_The drive was a quiet as it usually was, Mrs. Anderson driving, Blaine staring out of the window and wondering if he'd rather play Nintendo or watch TV that night._

_When Blaine got home he went up to his bedroom and booted up his computer so he could finish his homework. He was supposed to be looking for pictures of flags from different countries around the world. As he was sketching a crude copy of the South African flag (he was a singer, not a draw-er!), an ad of the side of the screen caught his eye._

_It was a shirtless man. And he appeared to be soaking wet. Before Blaine's conscious mind had processed his decision, he found himself clicking on the advertisement._

_Immediately Blaine's screen was flooded with pop-ups of men. Tall men, short men, dark men, light men, straight-haired men, curly-haired men, men with blue eyes, men with brown eyes. The two things that all of the men had in common were that they were all strikingly good looking and they were all stark naked._

_There was a knock on the door behind him. He jumped violently in his seat and slammed his laptop closed._

"_Blaine?" said his father. "Are you in there?"_

"_Y-yes," said Blaine. "Come in."_

_His father opened the door. "Blaine," he said seriously, "we need to talk."_

"_About what?" said Blaine nervously, wondering if somehow his dad had seen what was on his computer screen. He hadn't _meant_ to click on it! His finger had…slipped! He glanced behind him to make sure that the laptop was really closed._

"_Your mother said that you were touching yourself during After Care today. Is this true?"_

_Blaine nodded—he knew better than to lie to his father._

"_I never want to hear about that again, you understand me?" said Mr. Anderson harshly. "God, Blaine! Good, proper boys do _not_ touch themselves like that. Only queers and perverts do that. I will not have my son embarrassing himself in such a manner. Do I make myself clear?"_

_Blaine nodded. "Yes, Dad. I'm sorry, Dad. I won't do it again, Dad."_

_Mr. Anderson clapped his son on the shoulder. "That's my boy. Now go wash up for dinner."_

*****AM*****

"Maybe I would have forgotten about those naked men, and what happened during After Care," said Blaine. "Unfortunately the rest of the school wasn't nearly as forgiving. One or another of the kids from After Care told their friends, and they told their friends, and by lunchtime the next day I was being followed around by whispers, snickers, and rude gestures involving the other boys miming putting their hands down their pants."

"_Ignore them," said Trevor, turning his back on a group of the snickering boys._

"_Easy for you to say," said Blaine. "It's not you their laughing at."_

"Did_ you have your hands down your pants during After Care?" asked their friend Leah._

"_Only one of them, and only for a second."_

"_Ew!" said Leah. "That's gross Blaine. Touching your _thing_."_

"_I didn't mean to!" said Blaine! "I don't even know how my hand got there. It just…went!"_

"_Well, don't do it again," said Leah. "It makes you look like a freak. And I don't want to hang around with a freak."_

*****AM*****

"It took the rest of the week for the fuss about me having my hand down my pants during After Care to die down," said Blaine. "Freak wasn't the only think I was called either. Weirdo, pervert, queer, fag…" Blaine made a sound in his throat. "And they didn't even know about the magazine.

"I didn't know what some of those words meant, so I looked them up. What I found wasn't pleasant, but it started me thinking. What if I was a 'fag'? What if I _did_ like other boys? It seemed likely; I'd never had a crush on a girl and all the other guys I knew had. Besides, my dad had said that only queers touched themselves, and thinking about naked, attractive men _really_ made me want to touch myself."

"Ew, Blaine, too much information."

"Anyway, I also remembered that Charlie had said it was normal to want to touch yourself. Which made we wonder if maybe he was a 'fag' too. I know, Kurt," said Blaine when the other boy opened his mouth. "But I didn't know any better then. So I wondered if Charlie was a 'fag' like me. And I ended up developing a huge crush on him."

"Let me guess," said Kurt, "not gay?"

"No idea," said Blaine, shrugging. "I never asked him. "We kind of became friends though. In a weird sitting-together-during-After-Care-but-never-really-actually-talking kind of way. I also took to watching him in the halls like a creepy stalker."

Kurt stretched, curling himself into a more comfortable position against Blaine's chest. "Creepy stalker Blaine…hmm…not sure I approve."

"Says the boy whom I met because he came to spy on me."

"Not on _you_ specifically. On the Warblers. I didn't even know you existed."

"Thanks. You make me feel so loved."

Kurt turned his head and kissed Blaine's cheek. "I do love you. And I'm glad you're telling me more about yourself."

"It gets a lot worse," said Blaine. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes. I'm sure. I want to know, Blaine. I _need_ to know."

Blaine sighed. "Okay. I promise I'll tell you everything. But right now you should probably get some rest." He kissed Kurt's feverish forehead. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

Kurt nodded. "Okay. See you tomorrow, Blaine."

"See you tomorrow. Sleep tight, Kurt."

**AN: Yes, more flashbacks! I hope you liked it, now I have to rush of to get ready to go to _Rocky Horror_. Perhaps when I stumble into my dorm room at 3 in the morning & blearily check my email I'll have some reviews for this, hm?**

**-SQ**


	27. Chapter 27: Someone Else Like Him

**Author's Note: Why do I even bother appologizing for the decline of my update speed? It doesn't change the fact that this has teken me nearly a month to get up. The end of the semester is a bitch. And so is having my laptop hardrive fail. Anway, here is the latest chapter, at least it's a decently long one (for this story), right?**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: My name does not start with an R, and I, or a B.**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Someone Else Like Him**

Blaine, Wes, David and Sean had barely stepped through the main doors of Dalton when they were set upon by a crowd of anxious Warblers.

"How is he?"

"Is he okay?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"When is he coming back?"

"Hi, I'm Trent, did you see Kurt?"

"Yes," said Sean, finding his hand being shaken vigorously by an earnest-looking round-faced Warbler.  
We saw him, he's okay. Has a fever and a concussion, but he's awake and alert."

Trent's round face broke into a relieved grin. "Whoo!" He turned to the rest of the gathered Warblers. "Kurt's okay!"

"We heard!" said the other boys, not seeming to at all mind being told the news again.

Blaine, Wes, and David laughed as a dozen hands clapped them on the backs.

"Okay, okay, calm down," said David, adopting his Council Member voice. "We're all happy that Kurt's doing better, but let's all go inside and at least try to have some semblance of order."

The Warblers tropped obediently into the school, still quizzing Blaine, Wes, and David about Kurt's condition. Sean got swept along as well, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the group of animated singers.

"Any idea when he's going to be back?" asked Thad as the group of boys took seats around a cofee table in the lounge.

Blaine shrugged. "They haven't said yet, but it shouldn't be too much longer. They'l probably release him from the hospital to go home before he can come back to school."

Wes elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow! What?"

"Don't you have some _news_ to tell them?"

"News?" said Blain in confusion. "No, I don't think so. What do you mean by—?" he noticed the look on his friend's face. "Oh," he said, turning red.

David laughed. "You don't have to tell them right this minute—"

"—yes he does!"

"—but they _will_ find out sooner or later," finished David as though Wes hadn't interrupted."

"It's not like they haven't all been waiting for it to happen," said Wes.

"Was it really _that_ obvious?" asked Blaine.

"_Yes,"_ said Wes, David, and Sean.

"At least wait until I can talk to Kurt about it," said Blaine. "It's his business too; I can't just go around discussing it with everyone without—"

"What are the four of you talking about so secretively over here?" asked Jeff, coming over and sitting down on the arm of Blaine's chair.

"Blaine's boyfriend," said Wes cheerfully.

Jeff nearly fell off of the chair. "Blaine has a boyfriend? !"

Blaine shot Wes a dirty look. "Wes, what was I _just_ saying?"

Wes shrugged. "I don't know. I kind of tuned out after you started going on about Kurt again."

"I wasn't _going on_ about him," said Blaine in annoyance. "I _said_ that I wanted to talk to him before telling everyone!"

"Oh," said Was, with an unconvincing look of contrition.

"Guys!" called Jeff exictedly over the buzz of conversation. "Guys, Blaine has a boyfriend!"

"Too late now," said Wes.

"Who is it?" demanded Nick, as Blaine continued to glare at Wes. "Someone we know?"

"Oh, you know him alright," said Wes with a smirk.

"Does he go to Dalton?"

"Indeed he does," said Wes, his smirk growing wider. "Though right now he's recuperating in a hospital bed."

There was a moment of silence as this information clicked in their brains, then—

"Oh my God! _Blaine and Kurt finally got together!_"

"Ow!" said Sean, slapping his hands over his ears.

"It's about time!" said James. "I was starting to wonder if I had misread all of that sexual tension."

"_Sexual_—?"

"No," said David, "there was definitely sexual tension."

"Guys, if Blaine goes any redder he's going to turn into a tomato."

Blaine turned his glare on Trent.

"Blaine," said Trent, obviously unimpressed, "you're really not very scary."

Blaine, Wes, David, and Sean exchanged a look. _If only you knew…_

*****AM*****

"Boo!"

"Aah," said Kurt without looking up from his magazine.

"You don't sound very scared," pouted Blaine.

"Well, if you're trying to sneak up on someone, it's usually helpful _not_ to whistle your way all the way up the hallway."

"Oh. Right."

Kurt marked his place in the magazine and laid it aside. "Hello."

Blaine smiled. "Hello. How are you today?"

Kurt tilted his hand in a 'so-so' gesture. "The medication they have me on gives me a headache and makes me naseaus, but they should take me off it in another day or two."

Blaine made a face and pulled a chair up next to Kurt's bed, straddling it. "Are you going to puke on me?"

"I hope not,"s aid Kurt with a small laugh. "That wouldn't be very romantic."

"No, it really wouldn't." Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "You up to talking today?"

"With you? Always."

"Now who's being sappy?"

"Would you raher I say no?"

"No thanks," said Blaine. "I'll pass. Unless you really aren't up to talking of course."

"No," Kurt assured him, "I am. Beats sitting around here being bored out of my mind."

"I'm flattered…"

"So," said Kurt, settling himself more comfortably on the bed, "how are things going at Dalton? Do they miss me?"

"You have no idea," said Blaine. "The rest of the Warlbers literally mobbed us when we got back to school yesterday. I think they might have slightly traumatized Sean."

Kurt laughed. "They have a tendency to do that. I think he'll get over it."

"Probably," agreed Blaine. "He's managed to survive living with me and associating with Wes and David after all. "Oh," he added in a would-be-offhand manner, "they know, by the way. About us." Kurt lifted his eyebrows. "I was _going _to talk to you about it first, but Wes went and opened his big mouth."

"Of course he did," said Kurt with a shake of his head. "Oh well. It's nothing to be upset about I suppose. Who cares if they know about it? I _want_ them to know. I want to stand up on the roof of the hosptial and scream it to the whole world."

Blaine laughed. "If you did that, they might send you to a different kind of hospital."

They chatted about this and that for nearly an hour before the nurse and Kurt's father came in to check on Kurt. After they had left, Kurt tugged on Blaine's hand and said, "Come here and cuddle with me and tell me more about yourself."

Blaine moved from the chair to the bed beside Kurt, putting his arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him close. His boyfriend gave a little squeak. His boyfriend. He liked the sound of that.

"Are you sure you want to hear more of that story?" said Blaine. "It's not a very happy one."

"I know," said Kurt, leaning his head agaisnt Blaine. "But I want to hear anyway. And it has a happy ending, right?"

Blaine smiled and nodded. He had known Kurt would insist upon hearing it anyway. "Yes, it does have a happy ending." He laced his fingers through Kurt's, leaned them back agasint the headboard of the bed, and began.

"What I told you yesterday pretty much sums up my experience with being gay in middle school. I watched Charlie in the halls, and a couple of other boys that caught my pubescent attention, guiltily looked up pictures and information on the internet, and agonized over my secret in private.

"It wasn't until I got to high school that I actually met someone else who I knew was gay…"

*****AM*****

_Blaine sat alone at a table in the corner of the cafeteria, kicking his heels againsth e metal legs of his chair. This was a different Blaine than had shouldered his way through the halls of Roosevelt Middle School two years previously. This Blaine was quieter, more guarded, less open. He flinched more and smiled less and tended to get lost in his own thoughts for long periods of time. This Blaine had a secret._

"_Hey Blaine," said Leah, sliding into the seat across from him, "mind if we sit with you?"_

"_What?" said Blaine, starting and looking up at her. "Oh, no, sure, go ahead." He moved his things over underneath the table to make room for Leah and her group of friends. Technically they were his group of friends too, but it didn't really feel that way to him. Leah had the gift of being able to make friends with people at the drop of a hat. If is wasn't for her and her best friend Erica, who had both come with him from Roosevelt, he might not have at a group of friends in high school at all. It wasn't that people didn't like him, they did, he'd been told by several people, mostly adults, that he was quite charasmatic. But Blaine didn't feel charasmatic. He felt dirty, strange, and isolated, as though there was an invisible partition in between him and the rest of the world. At least, it was invisible to their eyes. Blaine himself saw it every day. He saw it in the jocks who swaggered down the hallways, cracking 'fag' jokes with their friends. He saw it in the couples who sat together in class, their hands and knees bumping each other underneath the desks. He saw it everywhere, every day, and every day he felt more and more distant from the rest of his peers, more and more alone. He wondered if eventually he would wake up one day and nobody around him would be able to see or hear him at all. He wondered if they'd even miss him._

"_Hannah Leskow's cousin is in town," said Debra. "Remember when she performed magic tricks at Hannah's tenth birthday party?" This question was addressed to Jason Michaels. He, Debra, and Hannah had gone to school together since the first grade._

_I heard that she brought someone back with her," said Brianna with a toss of her glossy brown hair. "Another _girl_."_

_The rest of them looked at her, nonplussed._

"_I heard she's her _girlfriend_."_

"_She can't have a girlfriend," said Jason, as if this was the most ridiculous idea in the world. "She's a girl."_

"_She can if she's a dyke," said Brianna, making the word sound dirty and wrong._

"_You shouldn't listen to rumors," said Debra._

"_It's not a rumor," said Brianna. "It's true. Ask Hannah yourself if you don't believe me."_

_Blaine stared at the faux-wood of the table in front of him. He hadn't said a word during this exchange, but his brain had been spinning since Brianna had uttered the word "girlfriend"._

_If what Brianna had said was true, this could be his chance to finally meet someone else like him, and someone who not only had feelings for people of the same gender, but _acted_ on them. That is, if he had the guts to actually talk to her._

_Blaine realized that Leah was snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Earth to Blaine! Come on, where is your brain? Lunch is over; we're going to be late for class."_

_Blaine got to his feet, throwing his bag over his shoulder. As he followed Leah out of the cafeteria she shook her head, still talking. "Honestly Blaine, sometimes I wonder about you…"_

*****AM*****

"Kurt? Blaine?" Carole stuck her head around the doorframe. "Can we come in?"

"Oh, of course," said Blaine, moving so he could look at Burt and Carole in the doorway. "Kurt and I were just talking.

"I hope so," said Burt, following his wife into the room.

"_Da-ad."_

"Only joking, Sport," said Burt. "Mostly."

Blaine looked at his watch. "Wow, it's later than I thought. I've got to go, Kurt, I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He kissed Kurt on the cheek.

Kurt nodded, turning his head to rub their noses together. "Tomorrow. Love you."

Blaine smiled. "Love you too. Get some rest. And try not to drive the nurses to distration."

"I'll rest," said Kurt, "but I make no promises on the second one."

**AN: Already we see Blaine starting to change into ho we saw him at the beginning of the first set of flashbacks. Obviously, the worst is yet to come. On a brighter note, Kurt is getting better :)**

**Thanks for reading. It might take me a bit longer to get back to your reviews since I don't have a laptop & have to rely on my phone & the school computer labs, but I will get back to you, so please still send them! ;)**

**-SQ**


	28. Chapter 28: Lauren and Erin

**Author's Note: I don't know in what universe I thought I would have more time to write during summer break. Since I don't have a set schedule it's actually _harder_ for me to find time to write. As always, I do the best I can, and hope you enjoy the chapter. Also, the Apocalyptour was awesome, just saying ;) Though "Animal Love" has yet to leave my head.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: _Glee_ still belongs to people who are not me.**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lauren and Erin**

"Knock knock."

"Come in."

"You're supposed to say 'Who's there?'" said Wes, opening the door and entering the room, followed by David.

"But I already knew who was there," said Blaine without looking up.

"That's beside the point."

Wes and David crossed to Blaine and leaned over his shoulder.

"What're you working on?" asked David.

"Studying for my AP Chem exam," said Blaine, making a face. "Remind me why I'm taking that class again?"

"Because it's fascinating!" said Wes.

"Because it'll look good on your college applications," said David.

"God, I hope so…"

David took a seat on the edge of Blaine's bed while Wes perched himself on the corner of the desk.

"So how's it going?" asked Wes.

"Monumentally slowly," said Blaine. "I want to rip my hair out."

"Not the studying, silly. With Kurt, telling him about your past."

Blaine shrugged. "It's going. It's hard, but…"

"He deserves to know."

"Exactly. And I want him to."

"You're not having trouble, are you, reliving it?" said David.

"Well, yeah, like I said, it's hard. But not panic attack inducing hard, I promise. It's actually…strangely therapeutic, going through it like this with Kurt. I'm also starting to realize that I wasn't really as over it all as I thought I was."

Wes and David exchanged a look.

"Well," said Wes, "I'm glad you're doing alright. We're both here if you need us."

"I know," said Blaine, patting Wes's hand, which was on his shoulder. "Believe me, it's a little hard to forget it."

"Good," smirked Wes.

"Hey Wes," said David. "I think Blaine's gonna be just fine. We're not the only ones who've got his back anymore."

"Well, that's good," said Wes, "because we're graduating this year."

"Ooookay," said Blaine, "next topic. You two took AP Chem last year, think you can help me study for this test?"

*****AM*****

Kurt was not a happy camper. In his defense, happy is not an easy thing to be when you've spent the entire day throwing up and now your boyfriend is nearly half an hour late to visit you in the depressingly boring hospital.

_Is he getting tired of me already?_

The door banged open and Kurt jumped, causing his stomach to churn unpleasantly.

_I can't possibly throw up again, there's nothing left!_

"Kurt!" Blaine bent over with one hand on his knee. "I'm so sorry I'm late," he panted. "The line was really long, and then there was traffic—"

"What line?" interrupted Kurt.

Blaine straightened up and held out a paper cup of Lima Bean coffee.

"I thought you might miss your nonfat mochas, so I brought you one."

Kurt's annoyance evaporated. "Awww, Blaine, thanks."

"So do you forgive me for being late?" asked Blaine, handing Kurt the coffee cup and sitting down on the bed beside him.

"Of course," said Kurt, "I didn't even notice."

"You didn't notice that I wasn't here?" Blaine pouted.

"That's not what I mean and you know it, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Very tired of throwing up," said Kurt.

"Urgh." Blaine made a face. "That sucks. Can't they put you on a different medication?"

"The other medications have even worse side effects. They're taking me of it tomorrow or the next day though."

"That's good at least. Do you think you'll be able to handle that mocha?"

"I hope so." Kurt took a sip. "Mmmm."

Blaine smiled; he boyfriend was too adorable.

"Bla-aine?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me what happened. Did you meet that girl's cousin? Was she really a lesbian?"

Blaine laughed. "Yes, I did meet her, and yes, she really was a lesbian."

"And?"

"I just told you."

"_Bla-aine."_

"Okay, okay. True to form, I lurked in the courtyard after school waiting for Hannah's cousin to show up…"

_He didn't have to wait long; after a minute or two a car pulled up in front of the school and two young women got out. Blaine knew that they must be Hannah's cousin and her alleged girlfriend. For one thing, their car was painted a dark matte blue that clashed with the shiny silver, black, and red cars in the surrounding spaces. For another, these girls with their short, spikey hair and neon wristbands certainly didn't belong in Marysville, Ohio._

_Everyone was staring at them, but they seemed to be enjoying the attention. Blaine almost backed out of talking to them right then, but one of the girls, the one wearing cargo pants and a corduroy cap, came up to him._

"_Excuse me," she said, flicking the brim of her cap up so that she could look down at him—she was very tall, "we can park there, right? We won't get a ticket?"_

_Blaine, who didn't drive, shrugged. "I think so," he said, suddenly wary of this outrageously dressed college girl._

"Outrageously dressed?" said Kurt, incredulously. "A few wristbands and a corduroy cap?"

"She was wearing a black t-shirt with neon, and I mean _neon_, letters that said 'Busy talking to the voices in my head."

Kurt laughed. "Okay, that's funny."

"Yeah," admitted Blaine, "it kind of is, but I's never seen anyone wearing anything more adventurous than a large belt buckle or a small nose stud. She had an _eyebrow_ piercing!"

Kurt laughed again. "Oh, Blaine. Go on with your story."

"She must have realized she scared me, because she held out her hand. Her nails were painted with alternating black and neon green nail polish."

_"Hi, I'm Erin. You want a cigarette?"_

"_Uh…" said Blaine._

"_Here," said the second young woman, the one wearing a _very_ short miniskirt. She pulled out a cigarette from her bag, lit it, and held it out to Blaine. When she leaned over, her very large chest, bearing the legend 'Center of Attention,' was nearly in his face._

"_Uh…" said Blaine again, "thanks." He took the cigarette, put it to his lips, and inhaled. Immediately he started hacking and coughing, dropping the still-burning cigarette onto the pavement._

"_Easy there," said Erin, patting him on the back. "First time smoking?"_

_Blaine nodded, his eyes still watering._

"_You'll get used to it," said the second girl. "I'm Lauren, by the way."_

"_You're Hannah's cousin."_

"_Yes. Are you one of Hannah's friends?"_

"_Kind of." Blaine fidgeted. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you."_

"_We kind of figured, with the way you were staring at us."_

"_Everyone's staring at you," said Blaine before he could stop himself._

"_True," said Erin, looking pleased rather than offended. "But not everyone is staring at us the way you were staring at us."_

"_How was I staring at you?"_

"_Like you wanted to talk to us," smirked Lauren._

"_Oh."_

"_Cat got your tongue?" said Erin._

"_Uh…"_

"_Awww, he's shy." Lauren's smirk widened. "What did you want to talk to us about…?"_

"_Blaine," said Blaine reluctantly, wishing he had never decided to talk to these girls._

"_What did you want to talk to us about, Blaine?"_

_Blaine fidgeted, realized what he was doing, and stiffened. Lauren and Erin made him feel uncomfortable. They smelled like cigarettes and alcohol and something else he didn't recognize, and they looked at him with a little too much interest. He didn't like being looked at, and now _everyone_ was looking at him._

_He tried to get up and leave, but Lauren's hand was still on his arm, holding him in place._

_Erin looked into Blaine's face. "I know what he wants, Laur'. The little punk wants to know if we're really a couple of dykes."_

_Lauren rolled her eyes. "Of course he does," she said, releasing his arm with a shove. "Well, if you're expecting us to make out in front of you, forget it."_

"_We're not intimidated by some high school upstart," said Erin haughtily._

"_No!" said Blaine. "I mean—I just—I wanted to know of you were really…like me."_

_The two young women stared at him. "Like you?"_

_Blaine nodded, staring at his knees. "I…I like boys," he said, whispering the last word._

_Lauren and Erin exchanged a look._

"_Oh no," said Erin, "we are not interested in your gay sob story. There are hotlines and shit for that."_

"_I—I don't actually really have anything to say," admitted Blaine. "I just wanted to meet someone else who was like me." Now that he had said it out lout it sounded incredibly stupid. Apparently Lauren and Erin thought so too, because they exchanged a look as if to say 'Is this kid for real?'_

"_I guess I'll go now…" Blaine hesitated, but when neither of them stopped him he continued around to the other side of the school to wait for his mother to pick him up._

"Doesn't sound like they were very helpful," said Kurt.

Blaine snorted. "No, not really. The only thing that really came out of that meeting was that now the whole school knew I had been seen talking to a couple of dykes. It didn't take long for the rumor to start that I was gay."

"Did you ever see Lauren and Erin again?"

"Nope," said Blaine. "Heard they got busted for drugs a couple of weeks later though."

"Charming. What happened when the rumors started?"

Blaine's face darkened. "What do you think happened? My old high school was worse than McKinley. Or maybe it just seemed that way because I didn't have a group of friends and an awesome choir director to turn to."

"So you weren't actually out at your old school?"

"Oh, I was eventually," said Blaine, "just not at that point."

"Why did you come out if it was that bad beforehand?" asked Kurt.

"Why did you?"

"Good point."

"I thought that maybe if I just admitted it they'd stop bothering me."

"Didn't work?"

Blaine snorted. "Hardly."

Kurt yawned, struggling to keep his eyelids from falling as he looked at his boyfriend.

"You're tired," said Blaine. "And I should go anyway. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Kurt wanted to protest, but he _was_ tired. "Alright. See you tomorrow, Blaine."

Blaine stood and kissed Kurt on the top of the head. "Love you."

"Love you too," said Kurt sleepily.

Blaine crossed to the door, and when he turned around to close the door behind him Kurt was already asleep.

**AN: Yes, I am aware that Dalton is in Westerville, not Marysville, but no one ever said that Blaine's family actually lives in Westerville. Also, I certainly don't mean to stereotype lesbians in any way, and certainly not as drug addicts. These particular girls simply happen to be both lesbian and drug addicts, because Blaine's life prior to Dalton was messed up.**

**Thanks for reading; I look forward to your reviews in my inbox ;)**

**-SQ**


	29. Chapter 29: Alienation

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. Honestly, I just don't have much time to write right now, and I won't for the rest of the summer. I'm working at summer camp, and I only have a couple hours a day off, which is also my time to shower, check email, facebook, my phone, etc, socialize, and do whatever else may need doing. I still am writing, just very slowly.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I can't even watch _The Glee Project_ from where I am right now, forget about owning _Glee_**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Alienation**

"I'm surprised your parents let you spend so much time alone with me every day," said Blaine, settling back against the headboard after what had been a rather intense make-out session.

"I played the 'poor me, I'm so sick' card," said Kurt, attempting to fix his hair in the reflection from the hospital room TV.

"You didn't seem 'so sick' a minute ago," said Blaine, waggling his thick eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt smacked his shoulder. "Play nice, Blaine Anderson, I still _am_ sick. I'll have you know that as of this afternoon I had a fever of 100.2."

"100.2, life-threatening, I'm sure."

"It's not pleasant," said Kurt, making a face.

"I never said it was pleasant, but it's hardly hospital-worthy." Blaine paused in the middle of rubbing a circle on Kurt's back. "Why _are_ you still here?"

"That is a very good question," said Kurt, the expression on his face speaking volumes about what he thought of still being cooped up in the hospital. "Apparently they want to 'monitor' me for a couple more days after I go off the medication." He rolled his eyes to show what he thought of _that_.

"And when do you go off the medication?" asked Blaine.

"Today," said Kurt, looking a lot happier. "I took my last dose this morning. No more foul tasting medicine, no more nausea, and soon no more hospital."

Blaine grinned, as much at how quickly Kurt's mood had changed as at the fact that he no longer had to take the nauseating medicine. "So that means you'll be out of here…?"

"In two days if I'm lucky," said Kurt. "I probably won't be back at school until later next week though."

"That makes sense," said Blaine.

"I _shudder_ to think how much work I've missed," said Kurt, actually shuddering for effect. "I do _not_ want to repeat my junior year."

"I'm sure you won't have to," said Blaine reassuringly. "You can't be the only kid who's had to miss this much school because of illness. They can't fail you for being sick."

"I hope not."

Blaine wriggled into a more comfortable position on the bed. "Would you like to hear more of 'How Blaine Became a Basket Case'?"

Kurt poked his boyfriend in the side. "You were not a basket base."

"My ex-roommate would beg to differ."

"Well, he can go take a hike."

"He did," said Blaine dryly.

"Sean is a better roommate anyway," said Kurt.

"Definitely," said Blaine. "Though, to be fair, it was me who was the worse roommate in that situation." He scratched his nose. "So do you want to hear more or not?"

"Yes, please," said Kurt.

"You're sure?" asked Blaine. "This is where it starts to get nasty."

"Yes," said Kurt quietly, "but only if you want to tell me."

"I want to tell you if you want to hear," responded Blaine.

"Then I guess you're telling me," said Kurt.

"Yes," said Blaine, taking a deep breath through his nose. "I guess I am."

*****AM******

_The week after Blaine's conversation with Lauren and Erin was the worst week he could ever remember having. It started when he arrived at school the following Monday morning. When he got out of his mother's car and walked to the front doors he could feel people _looking_ at him; a dozen pairs of eyes followed him across the courtyard._

_Blaine hunched his shoulders and looked at the ground, trying and failing to ignore the other students' stares._

_Because he was looking at the ground, Blaine didn't see the foot until it was right in front of him. He stumbled, his body tilting forward as his arms pin-wheeled through the air. He managed to halt his fall, stubbing his toe rather badly on the pavement in his effort to regain his balance. But the damage was already done; the entire courtyard was laughing at him._

_Blaine lifted his head and saw a face leering at him. The face belonged to a sophomore named Jacob or Jasper or something like that, Blaine couldn't remember. What he did remember was that the boy had a reputation for picking on freshmen. So far Blaine had managed to avoid his notice. Obviously no longer._

_As the laughter continued behind him, Blaine ducked his head and hurried into the building, tears of humiliation stinging his eyes. The first bell rang, signaling that there were five minutes before class started. Blaine quickened his pace, but for some reason he found the halls more difficult to navigate than usual. Gaps seemed to close as soon as he reached them and people appeared unexpectedly to block his path. He finally reached the door to his classroom as the second bell rang and slipped into his seat as the pealing ended. Well, he tried to slip; it was more like a tumble thanks to the pair of feet that shot into his path as he passed between the desks. More laughter ensued from this less-than-graceful entrance, and Blaine stared at his desk wishing he could sink down through the floor and disappear._

"_Alright, alright, settle down, attention please," said the teacher, clapping her hands and either ignoring or not noticing the fact that most of the commotion was directed at Blaine. "Students! Attention!"_

_The classroom slowly quieted down and Blaine turned his attention to the teacher, trying to ignore the stares that were still following him._

"That sucks," said Kurt.

"It gets worse."

_By the time lunch rolled around Blaine was feeling distinctly nervous. Nothing else specific had happened, but the giggles, stares, and whispering continued to follow him until he wanted to scream. Of course he didn't; screaming would only draw more attention to him, which was the last thing he wanted._

_Blaine sat alone at lunch that day; he kept expecting his friends to come and join him, but they never did._

*****AM*****

"Did you see them at all that day?" asked Kurt, shifting closer to his boyfriend.

Blaine shook his head. "Or the next day. Whenever they saw me coming they suddenly had somewhere else to be."

"They can't have avoided you forever."

"No," said Blaine, unfortunately not."

*****AM*****

"_Hey, watch where you're going."_

_Blaine looked up and met Leah's eyes. "Hi, Leah."_

_Leah wrinkled her nose. "Hi…"_

"_I, uh, haven't seen you much this week."_

"_No," said Leah. "You haven't."_

_Blaine faltered. "Will I see you at lunch?"_

"_I don't think so," said Leah sniffily. "I can't be seen associating with people like you."_

_Blaine went cold; it felt like his blood had turned to ice in his veins. "People like me?"_

"_People who put their hands down their pants and hang out with dykes."_

"_Hey!" protested Blaine, relieved in spite of himself. "That was once! Both of them!"_

"_So you say," said Leah. "Besides, you're probably gay and then I certainly can't hang out with you. Or be seen talking to you, so if you'll excuse me…" and she turned around and disappeared down the hall, leaving Blaine feeling as though all four walls of his house had fallen outward and left him standing naked in the middle of the city block._

*****AM*****

Kurt put a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "You don't have to go on right now," he said softly. "You can take a break."

Blaine nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths. "Sorry…it's just a difficult time in my life to relive."

"It's okay," said Kurt. "I understand."

"I know you do."

The two of them sat there in silence for several minutes, until Burt came in and told Blaine politely but firmly that it was time for him to leave.

Blaine nodded and disentangled himself from Kurt.

"Are you okay?" whispered Kurt.

Blaine nodded and smiled. "I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Kurt smiled back. "Okay. I love you."

"I love you too," said Blaine, blowing Kurt a kiss. "Feel better."

"From your mouth to whoever's ears."

**AN: Now that ffnet has made reviewing even _easier_ you should have _no_ excuse not to do it, huh? ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-SQ**


	30. Chapter 30: Almost Over

**Author's Note: Busy, busy, busy! Still, it wasn't really any longer this time than last time. I promise, as always, to keep writing.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: No, I haven't miraculously acquired the rights to Glee. Shocking, I know.**

**Chapter Thirty: Almost Over**

"They're letting me out tomorrow!"

"Good day to you too," Blaine laughed.

"Sorry," said Kurt, not sounding very sorry, "but they're letting me out tomorrow!"

"So you said," said Blaine grinning. He handed his boyfriend the nonfat mocha he held in his hand and slid himself onto the bed beside him, nudging the other boy over with his hip.

"Mmm," said Kurt, inhaling the steam coming from the top of the mocha. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. So you get to go home tomorrow?"

Kurt bobbed his head excitedly. "I still have a slight fever, but everything else has checked out and the doctor said I should be perfectly healthy in a few days."

Blaine grinned. "That's great. I can't wait for this whole thing to be over."

"Me neither," said Kurt fervently. "Although who knows how long it would have taken us to get together without it."

"We would have gotten there eventually," said Blaine.

"Or the other Warblers would have gotten sick of us and locked us in a room together until we made out or something."

Blaine laughed. "I can so see them doing that."

"Me too," said Kurt. "I almost think this way was better. Almost."

"So…" said Blaine, crossing his legs and leaning back against the headboard, "Blaine story time?"

Kurt laughed, almost spitting his coffee all over Blaine. "Blaine story time?"

"What?" said Blaine. "That's what it is, isn't it?"

"If you say so."

"I do. I assume you'd like it to continue?"

"If you'd like to continue it."

"You know," said Blaine, "I really would. It's…not pleasant, but somehow…cathartic or something telling you all this, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Kurt assured him. He turned his mocha around in his hands. "I take it this is where it get really bad?"

"Yes. It is."

*****AM*****

_Bullying became a daily occurrence for Blaine. He began to dread going to school. Every afternoon he left school with more bruises, both physical and psychological, than he had gone in with. There wasn't any one person or group of people he could pin it on, it just seemed as though the entire school had turned against him. People tripped him in the halls between classes, pushed him into lockers, knocked his books and his lunch out of his hands. Names were also bandied about, words that Blaine was all too familiar with and other words that he barely knew the meaning of. His group of friends, such as they had been, was gone. Occasionally he saw a couple of them casting him pitying looks, but that almost made things worse; he was a lesser being, and animal, to be kicked or pitied or even occasionally tossed a bone, but never thought of or treated as an equal. When it got so bad that he started thinking about killing himself, he went to the principal. For all the good that did._

"_I'm not quite sure I understand why we're here, Blaine."_

"_I can't take it anymore," he said almost pleadingly._

"_Can't take what?"_

"_The way they treat me."_

"_You're going to have to be more specific than that, Blaine."_

"_You have to have seen!" said Blaine, getting frustrated. "They push me down, they mess with my things, they spit on me and throw things at me and say things about me. They look at me like I'm something the cat dragged in!"_

"_We can't hand out punishments for looking at people," said the principal with infuriating calm. _

"_It's not just looking! They—"_

"_Who are 'they'?"_

"_The other students!"_

"_I need names, Blaine," said the principal, still in that infuriatingly calm voice. "I cannot simply persecute the entire student body."_

Why not?_ thought Blaine. _They're all persecuting me.

_In the end the principal said that he was very sorry, but there was nothing he could do. Blaine had made a choice and if that choice was unpopular it was his problem. Those weren't exactly the words he has used, but it was what he meant._

If it's a choice, _thought Blaine in silent anguish, _then why can't I unmake it?

*****AM*****

"Bastards," said Kurt.

Blaine looked at him, surprised.

"What?" said Kurt. "What would you call them?"

"Bastards," admitted Blaine. "I just didn't expect to hear you say it."

Kurt shrugged. "Some things have got to be said."

"Fair enough."

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine on the lips. "What happened?" he asked when he pulled back, adjusting Blaine's collar. "Is that when you transferred to Dalton?"

"Oh no," said Blaine. "To be fair, my parents didn't know what was going on at school. Of course, they didn't know I was gay either. I don't really talk to them about things."

Kurt nodded. Even with the rocky patches they had gone through over the years and their many, _many_ differences, he knew how lucky he was to have the dad he did.

"So you didn't have anyone?"

Blaine shook his head. "They treated me like an animal until I felt like an animal. And, although it wasn't a conscious decision, I guess I began to act like an animal too. I became very protective of my stuff—if I wasn't they'd mess with it, destroy it or steal it or put things in it—and I started lashing out. It didn't help anything though, it actually made it worse. People would intentionally provoke me to get me in trouble. I became known as a 'bad kid'. A trouble maker. No one listened to me, so I stopped trying to explain myself to them. I didn't feel safe anywhere. Eventually I landed a pair of boys who snuck up on me in the hospital and was expelled. The principal suggested a boarding school to 'keep me in line'. He said it was either that or juvenile detention. So…"

"Dalton."

"Dalton," Blaine agreed.

The rest of Blaine's visit was devoted to more enjoyable pursuits, the poor hospital bed getting more action than it was probably used to, even though all their clothes stayed on and their hands didn't stray below the waist.

"When are you going home tomorrow?" asked Blaine as he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and prepared to leave.

"Around noon, I think," said Kurt. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason," said Blaine offhandedly.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend. "What are you planning, Blaine?"

"Who? Me? Why nothing." He winked. "See you soon, Kurt." And he was out of the room with the door closed behind him before Kurt could get in another word.

**AN: I don't really have anything to say, it's late and I'm tired. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that you review :)**

**-SQ**


	31. Chapter 31: Two Birds with One Stone

**Author's Note: Please bear with me. My summer was, obviously, really busy. And now I'm trying to get back into the swing of school and figure out and balance my schedule. I will keep writing, but at a slower pace than any of us would like. I do hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: If I listed all of the reasons I couldn't possibly own _Glee_, it would be longer than the chapter**

**Chapter Thirty-One: Two Birds with One Stone**

"Blaine, we're getting a lot of strange looks."

"Fint, we're sixteen teenage boys dressed in navy blue blazers, carrying balloons and a cake, walking through a hospital lobby, of course people are looking at us," said David, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe they just can't get over how handsome I am," said Wes, preening.

David struck him upside the head. "In your dreams."

"Ow!"

"Behave yourselves," said Blaine, "or we'll get kicked out."

The group of Warblers walked up to the reception desk and Wes dinged the little bell.

"Wes!" said David, looking at him reproachfully. "The receptionist is right there! You didn't have to ring the bell."

"I know," said Wes, "but it's so fun."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Uh, Shelby—"

The girl's head shot up so fast Blaine thought it might shoot right off her shoulders. "Blaine! Hi!" She grinned and pushed a lock of reddish-brown hair behind her ear. She was wearing large gold hoops in her ears today and her manicure was still purple. "I haven't heard from you."

"Oh, yeah, you haven't," said Blaine uncomfortably, and Wes and David snickered. "We'd like to see Kurt Hummel, if you don't mind."

For the first time Shelby seemed to notice the fifteen other Warblers standing around in the lobby behind him.

"Oh, wow, there are a lot of you," she said.

"We're the Dalton Academy Warblers," said David stepping up beside Blaine. "Kurt is one of us and since he's going home today we're throwing him a surprise getting-out-of-the-hospital party. We'd like permission to do a little performance."

"Your friend is going home today?" Shelby asked Blaine. He nodded. "Will you still drop by the hospital?"

"Probably not," said Blaine truthfully.

Shelby's hair-sprayed locks seemed to droop. "Well, you have my number. I can give it to you again if you've lost it."

"Um, no, that's alright," said Blaine, aware of the rest of the choir watching on with growing amusement. "We'd really just like to see Kurt."

"And to have permission to do a bit of a performance," David reminded her.

"Oh, yes, of course," said Shelby, who seemed to have just remembered that she was supposed to be working. "That should be fine. You'll all need visitor badges."

Once all of the Warblers had little red visitor badges pinned to their chests ("Hey, they match our blazers!" said Ethan), they trooped down the hall after Blaine toward Kurt's hospital room door.

Inside they could hear a murmur of voices; they stopped when Blaine knocked.

"Who could that be?" wondered Burt. "Finn, get the door."

The doorknob turned and Finn's face poked out of the room. "It's Blaine," he said. "And the Warblers."

Kurt suddenly appeared next to him. "_All_ the Warblers? I knew you were up to something!"

"Guilty as charged," said Blaine with a smile.

"We brought you balloons," said Ethan.

"And a cake," said Trent. "Blaine told us how much you hate the hospital food."

Kurt just shook his head. "Guys…"

"We're so glad you're feeling better," said Nick earnestly.

"Thanks," said Kurt, accepting the balloons and the cake and letting the other boys hug him and pat him on the back. "So am I."

The Warblers insisted on carrying Kurt's bag into the lobby, actually fighting over who was going to hold it.

"Guys, I can carry my own bag. Guys, come on. Guys!" Kurt glared at them, his hands on his hips. "Give it back now before you rip it."

Sheepishly, Jeff and Trent handed Kurt back his bag.

"Alright, everyone, places!" shouted Thad suddenly.

"Places?" said Kurt, confused. "For what?"

"You'll see," said Blaine with a wink.

The Warblers arranged themselves around the waiting area, perched on chairs and tables or leaning nonchalantly against the walls. When everyone was in place, David whistled a note.

"Oh no," said Kurt.

Wes pushed himself off the wall and tipped an imaginary hat at Ethan, who was in the chair next to him.

"_Hello, Ethan. Well, hello, Lucas."_

He nodded in Luke's direction.

"_It's so nice to be back home where I belong."_

Wes took up a new spot, this time on the edge of Cameron's chair, and Thad stood from his seat on a coffee table to sing the next line.

"_You're lookin' swell, Andy. I can tell, Jamie_

_You're still glowin', you're still crowin', you're still goin' strong."_

Thad switched places with Blaine, who swayed and smiled mischievously as he sang

"_I feel the room swayin'_

_For the band's playin' _

_one of my old favorite songs from way back when_

_So bridge that gap, fellas."_

The other Warblers parted to allow Blaine a clear path to where Kurt was standing.

"_Find me an empty lap, fellas."_

Blaine pushed a severely startled Kurt down into an empty chair and then sat down right on top of him, looping an arm around his neck.

"_Dolly'll never go away again!"_

The rest of the Warblers rose from their various positions around the lobby and sauntered into a loose formation in the center, except for Blaine, who remained on Kurt's lap, effectively pinning him to the chair.

"_Hello, Dolly! Well hello, Dolly!_

_It's so nice to have you back where you belong!_

_You're lookin' swell, Dolly_

_We can tell, Dolly_

_You're still glowin', you're still crowin', you're still goin' strong_

_We feel the room swayin'_

_For the band's playin'_

_One of your old favorite songs from way back when."_

"_So here's my hat, fellas!"_

Sang Blaine, tossing an imaginary hat up into the air and then directing the next line teasingly at Kurt.

"_I'm stayin' where I'm at, fellas!"_

"_Promise you'll never go away again!"_

Pleaded the other boys.

Blaine opened his mouth to sing the next line, but Kurt tapped him on the shoulder and raised his eyebrows. Blaine returned the expression and gestured with his hand for Kurt to continue the song.

"_I went away from the lights of Fourteenth Street_

_And into my personal haze_

_But now that I'm back in the lights of Fourteenth Street_

_Tomorrow will be brighter than the good old days."_

"_Those good old days."_

The other Warblers were grinning from ear to ear as they came over to pull both Blaine and Kurt to their feet.

"_Hello, well hello, Dolly_

_Well hello, hey look there's Dolly."_

"_Glad to see you, Nick_

_Let's thank my lucky star,"_

Sang Kurt obligingly.

"_Your lucky star,"_

Echoed the Warblers.

"_You're lookin' great, Blainey,"_

Kurt smirked, then patted his boyfriend's stomach.

"_Lose some weight, Blainey."_

"Hey!" protested Blaine.

"_Just kidding,"_ mouthed Kurt, grinning.

"_Dolly's overjoyed and overwhelmed and over par."_

"_I hear the ice tinkle,"_

Sang the Warblers.

"_See the lights twinkle._

_And you still get glances from us handsome men."_

Here Wes waggled his eyebrows suggestively and David elbowed him, which Kurt doubted was part of the choreography.

"_Golly gee, fellas,"_

Sang Kurt, pretending to blush.

"_Find me a vacant knee, fellas."_

Here he pushed Blaine back down into the chair he had been sitting in before and sat on his lap.

"_Dolly'll never go away again!"_

The choir formed a circle around the two members seated in the chair and danced as they sang,

"_Well, well, hello, Dolly_

_Well hello, Dolly_

_It's so nice to have you back where you belong_

_You're lookin' swell, Dolly_

_I can tell, Dolly_

_You're still glowin', you're still crowin', you're still goin' strong_

_I hear the ice tinkle_

_See the lights twinkle_

_And you still get glances from us handsome men_

_So…"_

"_Wow, wow, wow, fellas,"_

Sang Kurt, tilting his head back over the arm of the chair and scissor kicking his legs up into the air as the Warblers cheered.

"_Look at the old girl now, fellas_

_Dolly'll never go away again!"_

The entire lobby erupted into cheers and the Warblers pulled Kurt and Blaine up from the chair and enveloped them in a group hug.

Shelby was clapping vigorously from behind the desk, her brown eyes wide and glued to Blaine. The curly-haired boy, however, only had eyes for his boyfriend. When the rest of the group released them he grabbed Kurt around the waist and drew him in for a full-fledged movie kiss, dip and all. Another cheer went up, accompanied by several wolf-whistles.

Behind the desk, Shelby's eyes went even wider with shock. Noticing this, Wes, David, and Finn grinned and high-fived each other. That was what they called killing two birds with one stone.

**AN: And yes, finally Shelby sees that Blaine is not for her. Plus Kurt gets out of the hospital and we get a fun song. Everybody wins! Well, except from Shelby. *shrugs* Until next time (or until you review ;) )**

**-SQ**


	32. Chapter 32: Get This Party Started

**Author's Note: I apologize again for the long delay. I have time to write now because I'm in the middle of a hurricane! Yay! Well, not in the middle, but in it nonetheless. There's no flooding here. And we still have power and internet as of now, obviously. We'll see how long that will last; the wind is insane. We had no classes today & we have none tomorrow, hence having some time to actually write.**

**Disclaimer: I am disclaiming**

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Get This Party Started**

"Blaine, for the hundredth time, I am _fine_. I have been fever-free for twenty-four hours and if I don't go back to school soon I'll never be able to catch up. And I am _not_ repeating my junior year. Once is bad enough."

Blaine laughed. "Okay, okay, don't have a cow. I'm just saying that tomorrow is Thursday anyway, so why not just wait until Monday to come back?"

"Because," said Kurt, "and I never thought I'd say this, but because I miss school! Sitting at home is _boring_!"

"More boring than the hospital?" asked Blaine.

"At least for most of the time I was there I was too sick to be bored."

Blaine bounced up and down on his bed, swinging his dangling foot back and forth as he imagined his boyfriend's adorable face on the other end of the phone. "Well, since you _are_ coming back tomorrow, what do you think about the Warblers singing your song?"

"My song?" said Kurt in confusion.

"You know," said Blaine, glad that Kurt couldn't see his blush. "The one I wrote for you."

In the few seconds' pause that followed, Blaine was struck with the sudden fear that Kurt had been so drugged up when he had come out of his coma that he didn't remember the song at all. But then the countertenor's voice came through the speaker pressed to Blaine's ear.

"Yeah…wow…have you played the song for them yet?"

Blaine shook his head, then realized that Kurt couldn't see him. "No. Not yet. I didn't think it was right to, without talking to you first."

"You really want to do the song?" asked Kurt. "Like, perform it?"

"Only if it's alright with you."

"Yeah, it's alright with me," said Kurt. "But I thought you didn't want to share any of your original music with other people, even though it's _really_ good."

"I don't know about really good," said Blaine, "but for some reason I really want to share this one."

"Fine by me," said Kurt with a smile. "Do I get to sing it with you?"

"Of course," said Blaine, smiling.

"Then it's definitely fine by me."

*****AM*****

"_KURT!"_

"Ak—!" said Kurt, which was all he could get out before he was completely obscured from view by a dozen navy blue blazers.

"Let him breathe, let him breathe," laughed Blaine, Wes, and David as they pulled their fellow Warblers off of Kurt. "Come on guys, don't kill the guy less than a week after he got out of the hospital!"

When some semblance of order had been restored to the rehearsal hall, Wes banged his gavel for attention. "Warblers, _Warblers_! I know we are all ecstatic to have out countertenor back, but our choir will only reap the benefits of his return if we actually get around to singing something today. Now, as you know, we have the alumni mixer coming up. Unfortunately we had to prepare our set list without Kurt here. However, Blaine and Kurt have a very special song they would like to add to the evening. As it is rather unorthodox, we will have the rest of the group vote on whether or not to add the song."

Every single hand in the room shot up.

Thad raised his eyebrows. "Don't you want to hear the song first?"

*****AM*****

Kurt peeked out through the curtain at the crowd milling about in the Reception Hall.

"Who are all those people?" he whispered to David.

"The alumni," said David. "It is the alumni mixer."

"But they're so young! Aren't alumni supposed to be, well, old?"

David chuckled. "Not recent alumni."

"They come to these things?"

"At Dalton they do."

"Nice. Do you think there are any former Warblers out there?"

"Oh, loads," said David.

"Places!" called Wes. "Places everyone! Kurt, David, get away from that curtain, you know better."

The current Warblers took up their places on the stage. Thad signaled to the stagehand to raise the curtain as Wes blew a note on his pitch pipe.

Nick stepped to the right-hand front of the stage and struck a casual pose.

"_I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."_

Jeff mirrored him on the left.

"_I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."_

They both nodded their heads.

"_I'm comin' up."_

The rest of the Warblers poured onto the stage.

"_Get this party started on a Saturday night_

_Everybody's waiting for me to arrive_

_Sending out the message to all of my friends_

_We'll be looking flashy in my Mercedez Benz."_

"_I've got lots of style, check my gold diamond rings_

Sang one side of the stage, while the other boys catcalled then came back with,

"_I can go for miles if you know what I mean!"_

"_I'm comin' up,"_

Sang Jeff and Nick as the group took up a new formation on the stage.

"_So you'd better get this party started."_

"_I'm comin' up I'm comin',"_

Echoed the ensemble.

"_I'm comin' up so you'd better get this party started."_

Now the choir was in full voice and grooving to the basses' backbeat, the better dancers in the group taking turns at a couple seconds of soloing.

"_Pumping up the volume, breaking down to the beat_

_Cruisin' through the west side, we'll be checking the scene_

_Boulevards freakin' as I'm coming up fast_

_I'll be burning rubber, you'll be kissing my ass_

_Pull up to the bumper, get out of the car_

_License plates a stunner number one super star."_

Nick and Jeff took the solos once more on the chorus while the rest of the Warblers formed a semi-circle around them.

"_I'm comin' up so you'd better get this party started."_

"_I'm comin' up, you'd better."_

"_I'm comin' up so you'd better get this party started."_

_"Get this party started."_

As they broke in down again from their new formation they sang the next verse, doing a kind of physical back and forth between sides of the semi-circle even though all of the tenors were signing the melody.

"_Makin' my connections as I enter the room_

_Everybody's chillin' as I set up the groove_

_Pumping up the volume with this brand new beat_

_Everybody's dancing and they're dancing for me_

_I'm your operator you can call any time_

_I'll be your connection to the party line!"_

Now the dancers in the group took center stage with their break-dancing routine while Nick and Jeff and the rest of the ensemble kept the chorus going as a kind of call and response between the ensemble and the soloists.

"_I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."_

"_Get this party started, ohhh."_

"_I'm comin' up, I'm comin' up."_

"_Get this party started right now"_

"_I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."_

"_Get this party started."_

"_I'm coming' up, I'm comin' up."_

"_Get this part started right now."_

"_I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."_

"_Get this party started."_

"_I'm comin' up, I'm comin' up."_

"_Get this party started."_

And pose.

*****AM*****

Ten minutes later they came to the end of their set and David stepped to the front of the stage.

"This song was written especially for our own Kurt Hummel by fellow Warbler Blaine Anderson." said David. "Welcome back, Kurt. And it's about damn time, Blaine!"

Blushing slightly and shooting a glare at his laughing friends, Blaine took center stage for the closing song of their set.

"_You're a diamond that I'm afraid to touch_

_You're damn near flawless and I'm sure you'd cut_

_Oh my eyes, my hands, my head, my heart_

_You'd tear this canvass skin apart_

_Oh what a waste of human art that'd be…"_

*****AM*****

"Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine turned, his arm still looped around Kurt's waist. "Uh, yes, that's me."

A young man of about twenty five with dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a light blue button-down shirt was looking at him appraisingly. "You wrote that song?"

Blaine nodded.

"You write any others?"

"Tons," chimed in Kurt.

"Not _tons_," said Blaine, elbowing his boyfriend. "But a few, yeah."

"They all as good as that one?"

Blaine colored slightly. "I…I really don't…"

"Definitely," said Kurt.

"I'd like to hear them," said the young man decisively.

"Why?" said Blaine, slightly taken aback.

The man put a hand in his jacket pocket and Blaine, out of habit, tensed, but the young man merely pulled out a business card, which he handed to Blaine.

"Jeremiah Bruce. Class of 2003. Independent music producer."

Blaine started uncomprehendingly at the card. "Um…thanks?"

"Blaine!" said Kurt exasperatedly. "He wants to produce your music! Sorry," he added to the alum. "He's a bit slow."

"You his boyfriend?" asked Jeremiah, who Kurt was coming to realize was a man of few words.

Kurt nodded. "Kurt Hummel."

"His muse."

Kurt smiled slightly. "You could say that."

Jeremiah turned his attention back to Blaine. "Interested?"

"Yeah," said Blaine breathlessly. "Yeah, of course!"

Jeremiah nodded. "I'll see you at my studio on Monday at four then. You can both come." And he strolled away.

Kurt and Blain looked at each other.

"Kurt…" said Blaine slowly. "Did I just get a record deal?"

"Oh my god, Blaine!" said Kurt. "You just got a record deal!"

"Shhhh!" said Blaine.

"Don't you want people to know?" demanded Kurt.

"Not until I know it's not gonna fall through," said Blaine. "Just…keep quiet about it until we know for sure, okay?"

"Alright, alright," said Kurt. "Spoilsport."

*****AM*****

Kurt was more excited than Blaine was on Monday; he found it absolutely impossible to sit still and pay attention in his classes.

"Kurt!" moaned Blaine. "If you get detention then you won't be able to come to Jeremiah's studio with me!"

"Sorry" said Kurt, and he tried his best to behave.

Finally four o'clock rolled around and the two teenagers knocked on the door of the unimposing looking concrete corner building.

Jeremiah himself, dressed almost the same as before, only this time with a green shirt, let them in.

"Sit down," he said, motioning to the forest green sofa across from his desk. "Let's hear something."

Awkwardly, Blaine sat and propped his guitar on his knee. Jeremiah looked at him expectantly. He positioned his fingers, cleared his throat, and did the first few bars of "Good Ol' Moon." Jeremiah nodded, keeping time with his foot.

"Something else," he interrupted about halfway through the song.

Blaine swallowed nervously and started in on "Jealousy."

This went on until Blaine had sung through every song in his repertoire.

"Well?" said Kurt finally, when the silence had dragged on to the point of being nearly unbearable.

Jeremiah nodded slowly. "Yes…yes… Come by tomorrow and I'll have the contract for you. We can start recording."

The two boys looked at each other. Was this really happening?

"You can go," said Jeremiah.

As soon as they were outside Kurt let out a whoop and high-fived Blaine. "You did it!"

"We still don't know if it's going to go anywhere," Blaine cautioned. "He's an independent producer living in Westerville Ohio."

"Still," said Kurt, "you have a contract!"

Blaine grinned at his boyfriend. "I know. And I already have the perfect title for the album."

"Oh?" said Kurt, linking arms with the shorter boy and leading him down the street toward his car."

"Yep," said Blaine contentedly. "I'm naming it after you."

"Kurt Hummel?" said Kurt, raising an eyebrow.

"No," said Blaine. "Adorable Mess."

"Why you little…"

**AN: Yes, that is the END. I'm not quite sure where Blaine's record deal came from. It just kind of happened. But the poor boy deserved it. I hope you enjoyed the story and will leave one last review :)**

**-SQ**


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